Girl of Green Street
by carriesagun
Summary: AU of the film; Matt arrives in London and is introduced to Ebony, affiliated with the GSE but distant from the members. He inspires her to spend more time with them, and he in turn learns a lot more than he could have ever imagined. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

Title: Girl of Green Street

Chapter Number: One

Author: celuthea

Warnings: Serious violence, bad language and sex

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters except Ebony, but you know how fun these boys are to play with.

)()()()()(

Ebony heard her phone ringing, but ignored it; she was too tired to even consider answering the phone. She lived with the principle that if someone needed her desperately enough, they'd call again. Irritatingly, it rang and ran before the obnoxious noise suddenly stopped. "Thank fuck," she muttered, rolling over and burying her face in the soft pillow, sleep coming back quickly like a living shadow.

Then the door went. "Fuck off you fucking idiots," she called, throwing the cover back and standing up, stretching as she did so and shivering a little, wishing she was still tucked up under her duvet. Stepping over her Labrador who was still snoring gently, she yawned and padded to the front door, pulling it open a crack until the chain stopped it.

"Alright, Ebbs!" Ebony rolled her eyes as she saw that is was Pete Dunham who had disturbed her peaceful sleep.

"Would be better if you weren't waking me the fuck up at some ridiculous hour when I worked all bloody night," she replied, rubbing her face distractedly. Pete smirked, used to her cheerful disposition and pushed the door, receiving resistance as Ebony pushed back and the chain caught again. "What do you want?" she demanded. "Preferably the shortened version." Pete laughed and stepped aside, showing Matt hovering behind him. "Who's the girl?" she asked, peering at Matt around Pete. His face reminded her distinctly of someone, though she was buggered if she knew who.

"We'll be late for football if you don't get your fucking act together," Pete told her with his arms crossed, looking for all the world that butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Ebony knew for a fact that butter would turn into cheese in Pete Dunham's mouth.

"Do I look fucking bothered?" she replied smartly, stepping away from the door and removing the chain from the door, retreating to the moderate comfort of the sofa. She did her best to cover herself up, but wearing summer pyjamas that left little to the imagination were not meant for entertaining. At least not the kind of entertaining she was engaged in.

Pete followed and Matt brought up the rear, looking nervously sheepish as he studied the room. It was small but well decorated, and she seemed to have gone with shades of blue for the decoration in the living room. Turning around from the walls, he watched Ebony stalk across the room in her pajamas and settle on the sofa, the Labrador jumping up beside her and she automatically began scratching its ears. "I ain't going to football, Pete, I was up all fucking night working. Saw your handiwork on the Tottenham boys," she added with a small smile of pride spreading on her face.

"Oh, yeah, pretty good right?" Pete asked her, perching on the end of the sofa furthest from her. One thing she had noticed was Pete's aptitude to look like he belonged anywhere. Matt on the other hand was still standing with a deer-in-the-headlights look on his face.

"Right, short bloke, sit down or I'll make you," she said and meant it. "Pete, where'd you find such a whimp?"

"That's Shannon's brother, be nice," he replied, shooting her a warning glare, to which she gave him a blank stare. Matt watched Ebony's face change for a second when Shannon was mentioned, but return to its neutral I'm-pretending-to-be-pissed-off look.

"I'm Matt Buckner," he said eventually after an awkward pause, extending a hand to the red-head who glanced at the proffered hand before taking it.

"Ebony King," she replied, giving him a much firmer handshake than he gave her. She sighed and stood up, making her way to the kitchenette to pour herself a glass of water. "Right it don't make any difference, I ain't going to fucking football. I ran a double shift at the hospital last night, all kinds of fucking idiots coming in, so fuck off and go irritate someone else." Pete shrugged then nudged her in the ribs, causing her to spill some of the water. "Do that again and I'll pour it in your trousers."

"Threat or promise?" he asked, wriggling his eyebrows at her. Matt laughed at the disbelieving look Ebony gave Pete.

"You want to take the chance and go to football with a wet crotch?" she bantered back, and Matt got the impression that they engaged in witty repartee regularly.

Pete put both hands up in mock defeat. "Alright Ebbsy, you got me!" he laughed, shaking his head a little. "But, let it be known that I offered to take you, you miserable shit," he said, a note of teasing in his voice. Ebony held a finger up at him then indicated the door, ignoring his protests and bad attempts at crying to change her mind.

"Fuck off," she hissed, standing up and walking back to the bedroom and the bed which she hoped was still warm. As she slipped under the covers, she heard the front door snap closed. She'd succeeded in getting rid of them, for now at least. She never could keep away from the GSE for long.

)()()()()(

"She seems nice," Matt said to Pete as they walked out of Ebony's apartment building, and he glanced up at the window he assumed was hers.

"She's a great bird, but don't let her hear me say that," Pete smirked back, taking a sharp left to short-cut the journey to the Abbey. "She's a doctor, ya know."

Matt was truly shocked. "You're having me on!" he replied, trying to imagine what the word 'Doctor' could mean in rhyming slang.

"Genuinely, she's a fucking quack at the East London Accident and Emergency!" Pete told Matt, slightly taken aback that the little Yank hadn't believed him.

"I can't imagine her as a doctor," Matt concluded, shaking his head with a small smile on his face. Pete took them down another shortcut which brought them out a couple of doors down from the Abbey.

"Now, you're kinda going into my place of business. Speak when you're spoken to, and don't go blabbing to Brother Steve about what you heard at football," Pete told him, putting his best serious face on as he towered over the shorter American.

"Mouth shut, eyes closed, keep secrets; I can manage that," Matt replied with a lilt in his voice, trying to lighten the mood. Pete instantly smiled and slapped Matt on the arm.

"Good, now let's go! It's football day!"

)()()()()(

Ebony tried for over an hour, but couldn't sleep, despite her most concerted efforts and even a cup of warm milk. Something worried her, and she knew what it was; the little Yank. She knew all too well what the boys got up to when they went to football, and she couldn't imagine the little Matt being much of a fighter. He lacked that killer instinct, she told herself. Getting out of bed again and clicking her shoulders and neck, she picked up the dog and dropped him onto the bed so she could access her chest of drawers. She ripped open the top one, picked out some clothes that seemed to match and got dressed quickly. Out in the living room she found her trainers, grabbed her rucksack and left the flat, shouting a rushed goodbye to the dog and shoving the keys in her pocket.

It was a long walk to West Ham's home ground from her flat, but she covered the ground as quick as she could, ducking down every shortcut she knew at a jog or a fast walk. After 20 minutes or so, when she was still around 5 minutes from the football stadium, she heard an American squeal in a high-pitched voice. "Shit," she mumbled, turning in the direction of the voice and sprinting. Her long legs and gym visits meant she could cover the ground very quickly, and she came around the corner a little too fast and skidded to her knees. Recovering quickly, she caught up with the group chasing Matt and with a well aimed kick to the knee of the straggler sent him to the floor. She took a moment to smirk at him before pushing on. By now the others had trapped Matt and had him pinned against a wall, so she crouched behind a handy outcropping in the bridge to pick the perfect moment.

"Ever heard of a Chelsea grin?" The first said, rummaging for his wallet and producing a credit card. Matt shook his head, his eyes far too wide and his whole body shaking. "Do you take American Express?"

"Do you take being beaten by a fucking girl?" Ebony's fist went back and struck the leader in the back of the skull when it joined his spine. It wasn't a blow designed to kill him, but it made his knees buckle as a reflex reaction. As the leader tumbled she bent double and head-butted the guy holding Matt's left leg in the groin, sending him sprawling to the floor clutching himself. The guy on the right gave her a punch to the left cheek and sent her sprawling to the floor, where she deftly rolled out of his reach to force him to drop Matt if he wanted to punish Ebony. Being of limited intelligence, he dropped Matt and advanced on her as she wiped blood out of her eye. Just as Matt got ready to act, though he had no idea what he would do exactly, Pete appeared and head-butted the guy, knocking him out cold. Then he turned and offered Ebony a hand up. "Cheers mate," she panted.

"You are a fucking psycho, girl," he told her, and she dug him in the ribs with her elbow. "There were three of them!"

"So? I like me a challenge," she replied with a smile, still buzzing all over from the adrenaline both the running and the fighting gave her.

"You will get yourself killed one day," Swill told her, giving her a one-armed hug

"Yeah, maybe," she replied. Turning to Matt and feeling a little concerned for him, she asked, "You alright?"

"Yeah thanks to you," he replied. He was still in at least a little shock, and looked guiltily at the bleeding cut on her cheek that she absently dabbed at with her sleeve, ignorant to the stain that was forming on the white hoody.

"Righto you bunch of poofs, let get in the fucking van," Ike called, indicating the idling vehicle behind him with a thumb. The lot of them nodded in agreement and piled into the back, settling on benches and chatting jovially. Matt was still trying to get a halfway decent grasp on what had happened to him, just as Ebony fished a piece of fabric out of her bag and mopped up the worst of the blood from her face, wincing a little as the fabric touched the cut. Matt watched with a mixture of guilt and fear of reprimand for wandering off on his own, and caught her eye.

"Keep staring kid, and I'll give you a matching one," she threatened, passing him a wink as she did so. He opened his mouth to answer, but was cut short when a brick hit the front window. There was a roar of a cheer from the rest of the boys, and Ebony had time to say, "Here we go again!" before she began pulling the door open and holding it so all the others could get out. Matt gave her a look, just as she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him out behind her.

"I don't know how to fight!" Matt shouted in a panic to anyone who would listen.

"Just think of someone you hate!" Pete told him quickly, nodding at Ebony who had come up beside him and Matt.

"Look just stick near me and you'll be fine," she told him just as she leapt into the fray, without a glance backwards. He followed her, trying to get as close to her as possible and keep out of anyone else's rach, but had to keep dodging her elbows as she frantically lashed out before anyone could land a punch on her; then the punch hit Matt square on the cheekbone, and stars exploded over his vision like a bad cartoon. He fell and lost sight of Ebony as his face and head screamed in pain, and for a few moments he was sure he was dying.

As his vision cleared, he had enough presence of mind to roll out of reach of the man's boots and scramble to his feet, albeit unsteadily. He swung his arms wildly, unsure which of the men that was swimming in his double vision was the real one, missed by a mile and staggered past. Then the bloke started to laugh, and Matt snapped. The image of Jeremy Van Holden formed in his mind, and it was no longer this drunken man he was attacking; it was the bastard who had ruined his career at Harvard. He brought his fist back and smacked it into the guys jaw with a sickening thud that made Matt feel more than a little queasy. He stared at his fist with a sick feeling falling through his whole body, the pain equalled by his disgust at himself. The adrenaline began to take over him, and then nothing mattered except the fight. Except staying alive. Then two punches hit him, and everything seemed to develop a fuzzy quality again. Relying on the adrenaline, he knew he was hitting people, but he wasn't consciously aware of it or in control of it. The next thing he knew he had hit the deck and could hear sirens wailing around him. Hands were on his back and he was suddenly yanked to his feet, staggering a little as the world spun too fast around him.

"You are a fucking idiot!" He heard Ebony before he could adequately see her face. When it swam into view, it was dripping blood onto the white hoody she had on, but the smile on her face displayed the adrenaline she felt buzzing through her veins. Matt shared that sudden burst of adrenaline and laughed, his head clearing instantly like the clouds melting away after a storm.

Keith jogged over and shook Matt's hand, "Fair play son, there's plenty who woulda done a runner but you didn't, I'm proud of ya." Matt positively beamed by way of a response, pleased with himself secretly that he hadn't run away.

"Who was he then?" Pete asked, panting a little to flood his body with the oxygen it craved.

"Who?" Matt asked, the question struggling to permeate his adrenaline-filled brain cells.

"The guy you was fighting."

"Jeremy Van fucking Holden!" Matt laughed. Ebony shook her head and laughed with the others, brushing her fringe out of her eyes.

"Are we done kissing each other's arses? Because I gotta say Matt, my little niece punches better

then you," Ebony teased gently, digging him in the ribs a little with her elbow.

"Yeah, that first punch right there? A little feminine," Keith teased along with Ebony, but being a lot less subtle about it.

"What? That was a fucking good punch!" Matt retorted, recreating the random fist-flinging that he called a good punch.

"Well, it woulda been if you hit anything," Pete finished. Bovver came over to them, giving Matt a dirty sideways look. "What a fucking result!"


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Girl of Green Street

Chapter Number: Two

Author: celuthea

Warnings: Serious violence, bad language and sex.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters except Ebony, but you know how fun these boys are to play with.

***

It was less than an hour later that Matt was sat once again on Ebony's sofa in line with the rest of the GSE and waiting to be patched up. She finished cleaning the wound to Dave's cheek, ignoring his protests of how she was 'killing him in pain' or 'no fair it hurts!' She slapped Dave's cheek gently before standing up and shoving the piece of gauze in her hand into a yellow 'biohazard' bag, then knelt down in front of Matt to get a better look at his face. "Let's have a look at the damage, then," she said with a smile, tilting his head with her gloved fingertips on his cheeks and examining the cut below his eye with a trained gaze. "Just a cleanup and some steri-strips I think. You'll live I suppose," she teased, reaching backwards into a large crate which was full of medical supplies she had 'borrowed' from the store cupboard at the hospital.

"I think I should see your medical license," he smirked, wincing a little as she dabbed at the cut with a disinfectant wipe. She shook her head at him in a little disbelief and laughed.

"Well I'll need to see your fucking insurance, now shut up and let me concentrate," she snapped after a moment's pause, affixing the strips she had stuck to her gloved hand and then patting the cuts gently with alcohol wipes."There, you'll do, don't get the strips wet or they'll come off," she told him a little harshly, standing up and picking up the crate. "One day I'll lose my job for robbing all this shit to keep you guys in one piece," she muttered at no one in particular, wandering into the kitchen and dumping the crate in a cupboard she had left open so she didn't have to wrestle with the door and the crate. She shook her head and paused for a second, rubbing her face and then frowning at the blood on her sleeve. "I'm sure I quit this shit," she whispered, walking back into the living room and pulling her hoody over her head to chuck it on the washing pile. The blue polo shirt she had on underneath had blood on it too, and forgetting where she was, she ripped it off and chucked it on the pile with the hoody. A chorus of wolf-whistles met her as she turned around and blushed violently.

"We weren't sure you had boobs under there!" Swill laughed, and she resisted the urge to jump on him and beat him to a pulp. Secretly, Ebony was glad she'd remembered to put a sports bra on and not a standard one.

"Maybe we should strip you off and find out if you've really got any balls?" she replied curtly, enjoying the laugh she got and the high-five from Matt, but mostly the blush spreading on Swill's face.

"We're off to the Abbey, you coming or what?" Bovver asked her as he stood up to leave. There was nothing, it seemed, that would entertain him until Matt left. Ebony watched him over her shoulder as she found a clean t-shirt and pulled it on. She knew how protective Bovver was of Pete, how jealous he could get, but really the man was taking it too far with this insane envy.

"Nah, lads, you go, I'll stay here," she said carefully, choosing her words and tone of voice to try and placate his temper. It was in vain, though, because Matt soon piped up and received an evil look from Bovver.

"You could come with Pete and me, to go get my stuff from Shannon's," Matt suggested, looking up at her from his perch on the sofa.

Ebony shrugged; she could go with them and risk an all-out slanging match with Shannon. "I don't know-"

"She's right, it's probably not a good idea," Pete leaped in and saved her coming up with a bad excuse not to go with them – he knew how bad Ebony's excuses could be. Matt looked down-beaten; he'd been looking forward to spending more time with Ebony, if for no other reason than her sarcastic comments.

"Please?" he asked quietly, unsure whether his pleading tone would inspire her to go with him or slap his face. She sighed and scratched her face absently.

"Alright, you got me, you little fuck," she smiled eventually, shaking her head.

"You three lovers fucking finished? C'mon, we're off," Bovver snapped, leading the others out the door and not bothering to say goodbye, unlike the rest of the boys who waved a goodbye and thanked Ebony for patching them up - again. Ebony and Pete fixed Bovver with evil glares aimed at his back as he disappeared out of view.

"Fucking prick," Ebony said with a frown of displeasure on her face. "Shall we go, then?" she asked, standing up and finding her bag on the floor by the front door

)()()()()(

As they rounded the corner and Steve and Shannon's home came into view, it seemed to Matt that Ebony shrank into herself and tried to hide behind Pete's towering frame – very unsuccessfully. The door was locked so they rang the buzzer, and Ebony took a step back down towards the pavement as though she was preparing to run away. Steve answered, and his eyes instantly zoomed in on Matt's black eye and the steri-strips so expertly applied. Seeing Steve at the door, Ebony let out a small squeak and ducked behind Pete, her cheeks burning red.

"What the fuck happened to him?" he asked incredulous, dragging Matt in by his face to look closer at the injuries under the brighter lights.

"Look, bruv-" Pete started to say, but was abruptly cut off by Steve rapidly losing his temper.

"I told you no trouble! Is that so fucking difficult?" Steve snapped, pushing Matt away from himself to turn and glare at Pete. Ebony stayed just out of sight; she knew Steve's temper all too well.

"Bruv, he was lucky we was there! He's walking 'ome, and he get's jumped by-" Pete started again, staring his brother in the face as defiantly as he dared.

"I don't want to fucking hear it!" Steve shouted back, ignorant to the fact that Shannon was standing on the first stair, watching in horror as her husband's temper flared into action. Steve grabbed Pete by the front of his coat and made to hit him, his fist pulled back and aimed at Pete's unflinching face. Ebony moved instantly to Steve's side, ignoring the abuse that was being shouted at her by Shannon, and she wrapped her fingers around his elbow, applying soft pressure to the skin.

"Leave it, Steve," she said calmly in a tone she easily slipped into again. He stared at her for a moment, not really seeing her but aware that she was there. "It ain't worth it, c'mon," she whispered softly, her eyes somewhere south of his. It would be a long time before she could look at his baby blue's again.

His grip loosened on Pete's collar enough for the younger brother to wriggle free, though his eyes were fixed on Ebony, who was rapidly changing colour from light tan to beetroot pink. "Matt, get your stuff," she told him, a commanding tone to her voice she usually reserved for nurses at work. He walked past them and into the living room, feeling nervous and edgy as he began shoving his belongings in his rucksack. Steve stared at Ebony and she shuffled away, pinning herself up against the nearest wall and looking firmly away and at the floor. "For fucks sake, stop staring at me," she said very quietly, scratching her arm just as something to do.

"I think he is shocked by the fact that you have the audacity to walk into our home," Shannon said with a cutting undertone in her voice. Ebony looked up to see the young American woman stalking towards her, her hands on her hips.

"I wouldn't have bothered, but Matt asked me to come," Ebony replied, keeping her voice flat as she made eye contact with the shorter woman and tried to appear as non-threatening as she could.

"Get out of my house," Shannon hissed, a venomous look on her face as she pointed towards the door. Ebony shrugged then nodded, glanced at and smiled at Steve as she moved towards the door. He didn't respond, but she hadn't been expecting him to even acknowledge her as she left him home.

"I'll see you outside," she said to Pete, who had been unusually quiet, as she walked past and leaned against the wall, sparking up a cigarette.

"I'm done," Matt said, reappearing in the hallway. He paused as he sensed the tension in the room, and then saw that Ebony was missing. "Where's Ebbs?"

"She headed off, got a call from the hospital," Steve lied quickly, looking at Pete with a warning glare.

"Well we'd better get gone too, right?" Matt asked Pete, trying to change the mood in the room which seemed made of ice.

"But, Matt, you only just got here! I haven't seen you in years, you missed my wedding and you haven't even held your nephew and now you're leaving already?" Shannon asked him, tears brimming her brown eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'll catch up with you later," he said, hugging his sister then, grabbing his dufflebag, he followed Pete and Ebony outside.

)()()()()(

Ebony was almost totally silent as she sat on her bed that night, her face resting on her hands and her eyes stinging uncomfortably. She'd called in sick from work; if nothing else, her bosses at the Accident and Emergency department at the East London Hospital didn't approve of her turning up with two grazes and a large bruise on her face. She had also offered for Matt to stay with her rather than at Pete's, mainly because she had a spare double room and it would save him sleeping on the sofa.

"Hey, thanks for letting me stay. Just sitting on that bed is more comfortable than Pete's fucking sofa!" Matt said as he walked into her bedroom without knocking. Ebony wiped her teary eyes and forced a smile at him before answering.

"Right, yeah, well he bought that sofa when fucking Adam was a small boy," she smiled, still a little sadly, patting the bed next to her. He smiled back and sat down, feeling like he was in some sort of trouble.

"What's up, Ebbs?" he asked her; you didn't even need to be able to see to tell she was upset.

"Nothing, I guess I just feel kinda bad about what happened earlier. Ah, fuck," she sighed, flopping backwards on the bed and covering her eyes with her hands dispairingly. Matt laid back, propped on one elbow, and looked down at her.

"Shannon will get over it, don't worry yourself," he said, looking at her properly for the first time. She had blue eyes and shoulder-length red hair, tousled from where she had had a shower and not dried it adequately. As Ebony looked at him, she was suddenly overcome with a strange urge which she had to fulfil. Leaning up she kissed him forcefully, and pushed herself up and over the top over him, straddling his waist as she moved over him, her hands on his shoulders as his caressed her waist.

They broke apart for a moment and she stared into his eyes. "You're going to speak and ruin this whole fucking thing, don't bother," she whispered as her hands fumbled on the buttons of his shirt. He smiled by way of a response.

"Right, no talking," he said, enjoying how bossing and dominant she was. She finished unbuttoning his shirt and started on the button flies on his jeans, slipping her hand inside as she began to kiss him again. He flipped them over so he was on top of her and worked her own jeans open. As soon as there was space, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him into her, a thrill of excitement going through her as he shuddered. "You work fast."

"That's my job," she whispered back. She kissed him again, and then her mobile phone rang. "Fuck," she muttered, extending a hand and fishing the offending electrical out of her bag. "What?"

"Touchy touchy," Pete answered over the phone. "Just calling to see how our little mate is settling in."

"Right, checking up on me now you mistrusting bastard? He's fine, we're just... Getting to know each other."

"Yeah, Ebbs, I get it. See ya." The phone went dead, and she threw it to the floor.

"Where were we?" she purred, leaning back for a kiss.

***

Ebony's phone woke her up again. "I am going to shove that up the next callers arse sideways," she muttered angrily, opening her eyes blearily to find the phone. She grabbed it and answered, retreating back under the covers to cuddle up to Matt's back and answer the call. "Pete, congratulations, you just won a mobile-phone enema right up the jacksie."

"Fuck off mate, tell Matt I'll be there in half an hour to pick him up, He said he'd come teach my kids to play soccer," he said, a teasing note.

"Right, whatever, I'll tell him. Next time you call me at 7:45 am, I will stick a long, hard speculum up your arse." She snapped the phone closed and tossed it away in disgust. "Morning," she said to Matt, rolling over to face him.

"Hey, I guess that was Pete then?"

"Yeah, he wants you to go teach the kids he teaches to play fucking soccer, piss taker that he is, of course."

"Right, yeah, better get fucking dressed, right?" Ebony nodded and pecked him on the cheek as he made to leave the bed. He smiled and hurried out of the room, and she listened to him turn the water on in the shower. She sighed and snuggled back down into the duvet, listening to him busily getting ready. He was going to get his arse whooped.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Girl of Green Street

Chapter Number: Three

Author: celuthea

Warnings: Serious violence, bad language and sex

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters except Ebony, but you know how fun these boys are to play with.

)()()()()(

Ebony tutted impatiently at the chart in her hands as she took one last glance through the x-rays before talking to the patient in question. "It seems you were in a car accident, Julian, is that right?" she asked carefully, glancing up at the gentleman. He seemed foreign, but he understood English well enough to have had a decent chat with Nicola and the radiographer.

"Yes, I was hit up from the behind," he said, voice thick with a German accent. Being so near all the tourist hotspots of London, Ebony was used to hearing all different accents in the A&E.

"Okay, I can't see a skull fracture, just the broken thumb and that graze on your head there. I think you should leave driving to the taxi drivers in future, hm?" she said with a smile, the flawless bedside manner she had cultivated for over ten years a complete personality transplant from her usual Cockney and slang. "I'll send a nurse in to patch the wound up, then it's off to the plaster room then home."

"I think you are nurse?" he asked in confusion. Men of his elderly years and from his small home town were unused to seeing women in jobs usually so male orientated.

"Nah, I mean, no my dear, I'm a doctor. Have a good day." Almost, she said to herself, slapping herself upside the head mentally as she made a quick escape to the nurses' station, keeping her head down, out of sight of her friend Nicola who was the ward sister of the Accident and Emergency department.

"Hide all you want, Ebony; I can see the cut and the big black eye. Nice love bite, too," Nicola scolded, not looking up from the form she was busy filling in.

"Sod off," Ebony muttered in response, scribbling notes as quickly as she could to get out of the department and get to the Abbey to see the boys. "It's not that bad, and I don't have a love bite. Some fuck with a signet ring punched me." Nicola laughed. "Sod off," she repeated, rubbing the sore bruise on her collarbone. "Believe me when I say I'd rather it was a love bite."

"I'm sure you would!" Nicola teased in response, noticing with a contented smile that Ebony was going red. "You make me laugh, mate!"

"How nice to know," Ebony gushed back sarcastically, rolling her eyes before forcefully shoving the last file into the 'Closed' tray.

"I've got to laugh mate, you are a warzone!" Nicola giggled, signing the form and sealing it in the envelope sitting on her desk in front of her.

"Whatever," Ebony replied moodily, crossing her arms and leaning back against the desk. "So, you fancy coming for a drink?" she asked when she thought Nicola had got the message about how moody she was feeling.

"Will Pete be there?" Nicola asked, wiggling her eyebrows a little suggestively and in a way she knew would make her friend smile.

"Probably; he doesn't usually pass up a drink, particularly if he ain't paying" Ebony replied with a smirk on her face. Her friend had harboured a crush as long as she had known her, even if Ebony didn't understand it; probably because he was more like family than a romantic interest. "You coming or what, then?"

"Sure, it could be fun. Besides, I always feel safe around your boys," Nicola said trying to sound offhand and failing miserably.

"You make me sound like a fucking mother hen," Ebony tutted impatiently, stepping out of the Nurses' Station and heading towards the Doctors Lounge to get changed out of her scrubs.

"Maybe you are?" Ebony flipped her the bird over her shoulder, winked at her, then disappeared into the lounge with a cheeky leg flick which brought a smile to elderly gent in the bed opposite.

)()()()()(

The Abbey was totally packed out as the two girls squeezed themselves in through the double swing doors with linked hands, and the drunken revellers were already singing Hammer songs as a group, half-deafening them as their ears adjusted. Ebony grabbed Nicola's elbow and dragged her through the throng, greeting people with high-fives as she went and shouting abuse at the few who complained about her black eye, however jokingly.

"Oh, she fucking lives!" Pete called, standing up and bouncing towards Ebony who took a step back and pretended to look worried. He hugged her, and she pushed him off her jokingly and slapped his cheek.

"Oooh, that's cold," Swill laughed, and the rest joined in. Ebony was certain she saw Pete's ears burn, even if she was only kidding.

"Ahhh, he knows I love 'im really," she said, ignoring the light punch administered by Nicola to her upper arm, as she leant down and kissed his forehead. The rest of them catawalled and whooped while Ebony and Pete laughed. "Want a drink, Nic?" she asked her friend, who nodded and handed over a twenty pound note with a grin.

"Round for the boys?" Pete asked her, standing up and kissing her cheek. Her face turned as crimson as the top she had on, and Pete and the boys sniggered.

"Cheeky fucking slag," Ebony said to herself about Pete, pushing back through the crowd to the bar and ending up next to Bovver. "Oi oi, where've you been?" she asked in her usual way, only just noticing that he had a sheepish look on his face before Terry took her drinks order.

"Nuffing for you to know about," he threatened, shrinking into his jacket and sipping at his pint. She cocked her head on one side and looked at him carefully.

"What do you mean? Was work good?"

"What do you fuckin' care you nosy bitch?" he snapped, finally turning to properly speak to her. She recoiled a little, surprised at his violent reaction.

"Fucks sake, Bov, you're acting like a child! Grow up, or you wont like the outcome."

"Oh, why, what you gonna do?"

"I would be careful about trying me on, you little shit," she replied, her voice low so only he could hear the vehemence in her words. "Very very careful, in fact."

"Why? What you gonna do?" he replied curtly, standing and facing off to her. She mirrored him and stepped up to him till their chests were pressing together.

"If you want children, I would fuck off now, or I'll pull your bollocks off and feed them to you in little bits," she hissed in his ear before stepping away from him again to hand Terry the money for the round of drinks. He made to argue back at her but saw the warning glance Terry shot at him; Bovver turned and stormed out of the pub.

"What did you say to him?" Nicola asked in Ebony's ear, making her jump a little in her skin.

"I told him that if he didn't start to behave himself I'd pull his balls off," Ebony replied matter-of-factly. Nicola laughed.

"I can imagine that you meant it, as well," she said with a giggled, imagining Ebony pinning Bovver down and neutering him.

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. Anyway, you think I want to get within 10 feet of his bits? Nah mate," she laughed, nudging her friend who laughed back. She took the tray of drinks and made her way back to the booth, Nicola in tow and following in her wake.

"Ahh, it's the best kind of bird!" Dave said with a grin.

"What, one with booze?" Ned asked a little dimly, reaching up to take his pint off the tray.

"And I thought you guys were always pleased to see any bird?" Nicola stated, proud of herself for coming up with a comeback before Ebony did. The two women high-fived, and Ebony forced herself a seat between Ned and Matt while Nicola balanced on the last remaining stool around the table.

"We thought you'd gotten lost," Matt said, indicating Nicola and Ebony with his pint.

"We're girls, not stupid you dick," Ebony jibed, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow.

"I was just thinking of your sense of direction," he replied with a smirk on his face.

"Oh, like yours? I mean, coming from the man who got lost finding the bathroom in my 2 bed flat last night," she teased, eliciting a laugh from the GSE boys and from Nicola.

"At least I made it to the bathroom."

"The wet patch was from where you dropped your glass of water on me. Was it too heavy for your miniscule arms to hold up?"

"Okay you two, truce! Matt mate, you'll never fucking beat Ebbsy in witty repartee," Pete said, standing up to emphasize his point.

"A-fucking-men to that!" They all cheered, raising their glasses to a very embarrassed Ebony.

)()()()()(

"Whose is the next round?" Pete asked, nudging Nicola as a subtle hint.

"It's mine I think," Ebony told him, catching the look on Nicola's face and recognising it instantly. She checked her watched; it was gone midnight, actually closer to one in the morning. "You want one?" she asked her friend.

"Nah, Ebbs, you're alright, I'm going home," she said, standing up and turning to walk away, collecting her bag and saying goodbye to all the boys as she followed Ebony towards the bar.

"You get a cab, okay? I don't like the idea of you walking home by yourself," Ebony said, putting a ten pound note in her friends hand.

"I'll be fine, you just try not to get into any trouble between now and work tomorrow, right?" Nicola teased, pinching her friend's cheek playfully. "See you tomorrow, dappy tart!"

"See you tomorrow, blinking nightmare," Ebony replied, pushing her friends butt as she headed towards the doors. They waved at one another as Nicola departed into the cold air.

)()()()()(

Nicola shivered slightly from the cold, and wished she'd stayed at the pub, or in the very least called for a minicab. Ebony had given her enough money, and there was a Black Cab taxi rank around the corner, so Nicola began to hurry herself along. It was quiet and cold, the kind of night when most people would rather stay indoors than bother a single woman walking down a well-lit street. The noise had died down ages ago, now all she could hear was the faint hum of the M25, a melodic sound that you could hear all round this place. She shivered, and turned left when she reached the end of the road. Five more minutes and I'll be in a warm taxi, she said to herself, pretending to ignore the people she thought were following her. She shuddered, and wished she was back at the pub. Safe, warm...

"'ello, darlin', ain't it a bit late for ya to be walking home alone?" She started, and began to hurry her steps away from the man who had called to her. "I'm talking to you," he said again, and this time seemed closer than before. Nicola stopped and turned around very slowly, wracking her brain to find an escape route.

"I'm okay, thanks, almost there," she said in a small voice with a forced smile. Her hand went to her bag, reaching for her mobile phone and Ebony's number on speed dial.

"You're that little bitch, Ebony's, mate, right?" Nicola shook her head and began stepping away from the man, her stomach doing back flips and making her nauseous. The man laughed at her cowering away from him. "Yeah, I thought as much. She was in fucking tight with the Major, did you know that?" Nicola shook her head and began to retreat away from him faster. She fought the urge to run, knowing they could outrun her easily. Time for the only other thing she knew what to do. She opened her mouth and screamed as loud as she could. As they moved forwards, she just hoped someone had heard.

)()()()()(

Ebony jumped a little when her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she pulled it out just as it rang off. She frowned at it a little; the name on the screen made her stomach churn. "Pete, I'm gonna go check on Nic," Ebony said in his ear.

"Right-o, we'll wait here for you," he said, not turning his head so as not to give away what they were speaking about.

"Nah, don't bother, I'll see you at the station tomorrow." With that, she grabbed her bag and left, pushing her way through the crowd with her elbows extended. The spare key for her front door was in Matt's left pocket, if he bothered to check, so she didn't have any qualms about going and leaving him homeless. She had barely gone two steps outside the door when she heard Nicola, screaming with all her might. "Fuck it," she muttered, slinging the rucksack over her shoulders and tearing along the road. She had a fairly good idea about what she'd find when she got there.

Nicola was on the floor, passing in and out of consciousness and clutching her face in both her hands, her sobs making Ebony's blood boil. Tommy Hatcher and two of his thugs stood over her. "Beating up girls now, Tommy? Very brave of you," Ebony spat, throwing her bag away from her after shrugging it off her shoulders. It would only get in her way.

"Because you're so fucking brave! You know, I didn't think you had it in ya to be brave without the rest," he said, grinning menacingly and stepping towards her.

"There's a lot about me you don't know, you fucking cunt," she swore back, spreading her legs so she was balanced. "Nicola, don't move," she said, the tone changed in her voice.

"Aww, gonna protect your little friend? You shoulda looked after my boy!" Tommy roared, and Ebony flinched a little at the sudden noise.

"I am not your fucking babysitter, now fuck off back to the rock you crawled out from." Ebony meant it. Though she really didn't want to have to have a fist-fight with him, if it meant Nicola would get off lightly, she would. It was never a good idea to pick fights with people twice your weight and punching-power. She sighed, then said resolutely, "Fuck off, or come get beaten. You pick."


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Girl of Green Street

Chapter Number: Four

Author: celuthea

Warnings: Serious violence, bad language and sex.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters except Ebony, but you know how fun these boys are to play with.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has favourited this story - I hope you continue to enjoy it - I'm LOVING writing it! Celuthea xxx

)()()()()(

Ebony sat with her back propped against the toilet, her head screaming in pain and her hands covering her eyes, the light in the bathroom too bright for her addled brain. "More painkillers?" Matt asked, looking at her pityingly from where he perched on the side of the bath.

"Yeah," she replied, gulping the proffered pills down with copious amounts of water then resting her head back against the cold toilet. She wasn't keeping track on the amount of painkillers she was throwing down her throat, but an overdose was the least of her worries. Though most of the last few hours were a blur, she knew she had got Tommy Hatcher with a decent right hook at least once. That was before he got her on the ground and she blacked out to that wonderful happy place all unconscious people seem to visit.

When she came round, she was staring at the sky with a mouthful of blood, with Nicola crying beside her and shaking her shoulder violently, sporting a beautiful black eye and a split lip. Ebony was fairly certain her jaw was hair-line fractured, she had a concussion bad enough to make her throw up within minutes of coming around, and her face, arms and stomach looked like rejects from a tie-dye factory. "I feel like shit," she groaned, putting an arm around her over-weight Labrador and stroking his soft fur.

"You look like shit. Want me to call Pete in here? I mean, then you can tell him you're not gonna make it to the match tomorrow," Matt replied, looking genuinely worried about her; as he watched, she seemed to zone in and out on the conversation and rocked gently where she sat. Her hand came up and she gingerly felt at the right side of her jaw, wincing at the swelling her fingertips discovered there.

"Nah mate, you're alright, I'm going," she said as convincingly as she could, struggling to her feet by pulling her weight up on the towel rail. The room span, the colours blurring as her eyes adjusted to this new, faster world, but stopped whirling after a few seconds. "See, I'm fine," she said, concentrating on staying upright and stepping forwards towards her bedroom with a determined look on her face. When she got there, she pulled her clothes off and winced at the bruises. There wasn't an inch of her that didn't hurt, and she struggled to find clean clothes that would be easy to get on. Once she'd succeeded in finding some clothes that covered the necessary body parts but didn't touch the cuts, she went back into the living room where Matt and Pete were sat talking in hushed voices that always made Ebony suspicious.

"You beat up Tommy Hatcher?" Pete said, looking at Ebony with a mixture of pride and concern on his face. She smiled weakly and nodded, instantly regretting the sudden movement and almost falling. Pete caught her before she fell completely over, and let her sit where he had been on the sofa.

"It feels like I beat up a tractor," she replied once everything had slowed down in her vision again, just then noticing that she had split five knuckles on her right hand, and two on her left hand. "Shit, no wonder my hands hurt!" she exclaimed, holding her hands out in front of her with a gentle frown.

"Yeah, no wonder," Pete agreed, wincing himself a little when he saw the grazes on her hands. "Ebbs, you can't come to the match; look at the fucking state of you!"

"Tough shit, I'm going," she told him, putting a bottle of water and a packet of pain relief into her bag, packing it to make a point, though the fight was still a few hours away. She struggled with the zip, tutting to herself that she was 'useless'. "Do the damn bag up someone," she snapped, frustrated with herself and at the two men for not helping her.

"Ebony, stay here, you are gonna get fucking killed out there," Pete warned, though he knew arguing with her was pointless.

"All I need is some sleep, okay? I'll be fine, I just need to go to bed," she told him a little impatiently, checking her watch. The face was smashed, and she pulled it off her wrist and threw it across the room with a short scream that made Matt jump off the sofa. "What? I liked that fucking watch!" she shouted at him, turning her back on them both and scolding herself for being unreasonable. "Sorry, I shouldn't be angry with you two."

Pete was well-used to bad tempers; Steve's was legendary in his family, and Ebony's temper was not better. "You're not though, are ya; you're angry with yourself."

"Yeah; I should never have left Nic to walk home by herself," she said, moodily crossing her arms and leaning back against the sofa. "I'm going to bed, you guys. Pete, are you coming over before you go to the station?" Pete nodded. "Good, see you then," she concluded before standing up and heading for her bedroom, her last thought being how wonderful her bed looked.

)()()()()(

"You wont let her come tomorrow, will you," Matt stated, raiding the fridge for two bottles of beer and opening them with the bottle opener Ebony had fixed to the work surface.

"Mate, she can barely stand up, let alone fuckin' stand her own in a fight," Pete said tiredly, rubbing his face with the hand not holding his beer.

"You can tell her that then," Matt replied with a smirk, trying to imagine how that conversation would go.

"You great fucking pansy! She's a pussycat at heart, so long as you can outrun her," Pete laughed, taking a long drink from his beer. "Just keep her and your sister out of each other's reach."

"Yeah, what is that all about?" Matt asked as he leant back into the too-comfortable sofa, pulling a cushion onto his lap to cross his arms over.

"It's a long story mate and it's probably best coming from the horse's mouth, anyway," Pete replied evasively, carefully side-stepping the awkward question that he really didn't want to answer.

"Nicely evaded, Pete," Matt said a little disappointedly, wondering how he could raise the topic with Ebony and not incur a slap to some body part or another. That brought up a memory of the night before, and his lips curled in a smile that he hoped Pete missed.

"What the hell are you smilin' at?" Pete asked curiously, seeing the Cheshire-Cat grin spreading on the Yank's face. "Actually, you know, I'd rather not know," he sighed, shaking his head. He knew exactly what Ebony was like for a blue-eyed, dark haired guy, and he laughed as he polished off the beer. "I should be gettin' home, see you tomorrow, right here?" Matt nodded and went to gold the door as Pete left.

He went to the bathroom and splashed water on his face, seeing Ebony's bloodied hoody lying on the floor and feeling guilty as he put it carefully on the washing pile spread at the end of the bath. He brushed his teeth quietly, and changed into some clothes that passed for pyjamas equally silently, then stood in the hallway between Ebony's bedroom door and his spare bedroom, pondering which to enter and sleep. "Stop standing on the squeaky floorboard and get in here." Ebony's yell made Matt jump a little, but he smiled and stepped into the dark room, slipping easily under her duvet and snuggling up to her.

)()()()()(

"Don't give me the tone and the look," Ebony told Pete, shoving her belongings into her bag's pockets and not making eye contact with him. She still felt and looked like death warmed up, but she was feigning wellness, determined to go to the scrap that day.

"Well I'm giving you the fucking tone and the look, now go back to fucking bed!" he told her, unpacking her bag as quickly as she was packing it. She slapped his hands away impatiently, and Matt shoved a hand in his mouth to stop from laughing.

"No, I'm going! Look, I'm six years older than you, and a hell of a lot more worldly wise than you, and I say that I am going with you. So there!" Ebony firmly said, and even stamped her feet just a little to emphasize her point. "I am G-O-I-N-G," she spelled out, slinging the bag over her shoulder and biting back a gasp. Pete gave her a look, and she huffed. "Fine, I promise not to raise a single fucking finger to scrap."

"You not scrap? Fuck, Ebony, you are a bad liar," Pete laughed, and recoiled under the venomous look she gave him. "You have to fuckin' swear, okay?"

"Fine, fine, let's just go, okay?" she replied, and Matt noticed, that she didn't swear not to fight. _Nicely side-stepped, Ebbs, _he thought, wondering if they were ever honest with one another.

)()()()()(

On the train while the rest played cards Ebony struggled to even see out of the window without her head spinning, and found it impossible to focus on the card game. Matt, who had appeared late and on the train, sat talking to her about his and Shannon's childhood; she knew he was talking, it was the words she was having trouble with. He seemed happy with her noises of agreement, though, and it was just about all she could manage to give him. Then, her phone vibrated against her leg and she jumped, making a girly 'eeek' noise. "Shit," she mumbled, fishing it out of her pocket and answering it with a brisk greeting.

"Ebbs, why the fuck ain't Pete or Bov answering their phones?" Dave shouted down the phone, and Ebony flinched at the noise, holding the phone away from her ear.

"Dave, do I sound like I give a flying tom? What's the matter?" She asked him, and was answered by a sharp intake of breath, and felt nervous energy tingle in her body.

"The Manchester fuckers are waiting for you at the station. Get off the fucking train!" Dave told her, and she sat up straight and looked out of the grimy window, her heart thumping hard in her chest.

"Mate, this is a direct fucking train! How many?" she told him, suddenly aware of the boy's watching her intently as her voice grew louder and more panicked.

"Forty, maybe more." Ebony tapped her forehead on the train's grimey window, and muttered a curse. "Get off the fucking train," Dave concluded, and the line went dead.

"We've got to get off, boys," she told them, standing up and trying to find her bag in the over-head shelf.

"What? You said yourself, it's a direct train!" Bovver said, looking at her in confusion, and she shrugged at him, wincing at the action.

"Well, unless you want the shit kicked out of you by the forty or more Manchester cunts, we have to get off this fucking train," she repeated, checking her phone for the time. "We've got to get creative."

"How?" Pete asked, and Ebony fought not to shrug again. Bovver stood suddenly and punched in the glass on the 'Emergency Stop' button, sending them all flying into the opposite seat excluding Ebony, who caught herself to prevent further injury.. "Nice one, Bov!" Pete said, slapping his friend on the back as they jumped onto the platform where the train had stopped. Pete lead them through the station, chattering away instructions, as the rest jogged to keep up with his long stride. "Right, we need two taxis, ASAP." he informed them as they got to the entrance. There was not a car in sight. "Where are all the fucking taxis?"

"This is the fucking countryside, you idiot, there ain't black cabs round here," Ebony chortled, stepping past the group to look around the car park.

"Pete, I've got an idea," Matt piped up, spying a van making deliveries.

"I thought I told you to shut up!" Bovver yelled back.

"Yeah? Fuck you, Bovver," Matt retorted. Bovver wasn't impressed, and lunged towards the American, bruising for a fight. Pete stepped between them, pushing them apart.

"The pair of you, shut the fuck up! Now, Matt, let's 'ear this plan."

)()()()()(

The van purred gently as it moved towards the mob of men huddled at the station entrance. Ebony looked at Pete sitting beside her and nudged him. "Not even a punch?" she asked.

"Not even the thought of a fucking punch," he replied. She sighed and looked away. She felt a lot better than she had done this morning, why shouldn't she fight?

"Come on, I'm big enough to look after myself," she retorted, and he laughed.

"Yeah, clearly ya are, Ebbs." She gave him a stony look and elbowed him in the ribs again. "What the fuck?"

"Don't laugh at me," she told him, a very unimpressed look on her face, and he gave her a genial smile, causing her to laugh and nudge him again. He didn't have time to argue back; Matt's frantic pounding on the back of the van stopped him in mid-thought. The back opened and the boys jumped, charging forwards towards the mob, while Ebony obeyed and stood on the sidelines, keeping well out of range. Ebony felt sick as she watched; she wasn't good at staying on the sidelines while her friends were being pounded.

One of the Manchester lot decided to run for it, so she stuck a foot out and tripped him up; his head hit pavement and he was out cold. Feeling a little guilty, she checked his pulse; strong and normal. Good, she would hate to have killed him and had him bleeding all over her shoes.

"Sod it, I ain't his kid," she muttered, dropping her bag and leaping closer. She was lucky; just as she got into the fray, Pete needed a hand. She took a running jump and hit Mikey Allen, the leader of the lot, bodily on the side with her bruised front, pushing him to the ground because he'd been off-centre when she'd hit him.

She bit her lip hard enough to bleed to stop from screaming from the pain as she hit the tarmac, and could do little else than lay on her back and wait for the pain to subside enough for her to regain her feet. It would be alright, though; Ebony had given Pete the upper hand, and with some careful dodging of heavy feet, she kept uninjured. The sound of sirens split the fight up, and Pete pulled her to her feet with an unhappy look on his face. "Fuck this for a job," she said, running her fingers through her hair to chase away the stones and rubbish trapped in it.

"Did you ever listen to the Major when he said keep the fuck out of it?" Pete asked, watching her face to see if she was more hurt than she was letting on. She stuck her tongue out at him, laughing as they briskly walked to catch up with the others.

"Nope, and why should I fucking change?" she replied, digging him in the ribs until he laughed with her. Collecting her bag, she jogged to catch up as the boys chanted together, jubilantly; "There's ya famous, there's ya famous, THERE'S YA FAMOUS GSE!" Her heart lifted and she couldn't help but smile; the GSE were back in business.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Girl of Green Street

Chapter Number: Five

Author: celuthea

Warnings: Serious violence, bad language and sex.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters except Ebony, but you know how fun these boys are to play with.

A/N - A little bit of a gap filler, but the next one will be LONG, with lots of history in it, so be warned!

The Abbey was full that night, and the GSE boys couldn't move for the hugs, pats on the back, cheers and drinks that were given by almost every patron of the place. Ebony tried to avoid being slapped on the back too often, and was getting dirty looks from both Matt and Pete at the amount of alcohol she was putting away in comparison to the number of painkillers she was taking.

Matt and Ebony, caught up in the crowd, managed to stay in sight until they reached the booth, where she sat next to him with her side pressed against his. She seemed to have recovered fairly well from her fight last night with the help of a few painkillers, and hadn't actually been hurt in the Manchester scrap, more out of luck than judgement. She still looked like shit, but she was able to see straight and could walk without falling over (which, she declared, meant that her concussion had died down). She mulled over her beer for a few minutes, thinking about what she'd found in Matt's bag after they got back from the fight. She should tell Pete, but she couldn't bring herself to. _He's a hero, you need to let him play the part for a few days._

Leaning over, she said something to Matt, but it was so loud in the bar she couldn't hear herself think, let alone speak. So she grabbed Matt and dragged him off to the Gents, evading the other boys seeing her dragging him away. "Ebbs, this is the guys, you know," Matt told her with a laugh, looking a little nervous when she slammed the door shut after inspecting the cubicles and finding them empty.

"Have you ever seen a ladies in this pub?" she replied, leaning against the sinks and crossing her arms, feeling a little bad for what she was about to say. _Am I doing the right thing?_ She wondered, and took a deep breath as she considered her words. He went towards her to hug her, but she pulled away and moved to in front of the door. "Matt, you studied Journalism at Harvard, didn't you," she said plainly, no beating around the bush. He paled and turned away from her. "Don't you fucking dare turn your back on me. I ain't going to beat you, I'm the only one you can tell," she told him honestly, uncrossing her arms to supply a more defensive stance.

"How did you know?" he asked her, and she went a little red at the answer she was about to give.

"I saw the Diana thing in your rucksack. The boys are going to fucking kill you," she said, sinking onto one of the filthy toilets with her face in her hands. Things were going from bad to worse now that her fears had been confirmed. "Shit, you've got to tell Pete," she instructed as she stood up, and her blocked her way with an arm on the stall door frame. She gave him a look that told him exactly what she'd do if he didn't move his arm, and he let the limb fall down to his side.

"Oh, get the beating early? No fucking way, Ebbs," he replied without really moving in either direction, unsure of whether she'd beat him to death or hug him. Instead, she shook her head a little sadly, knowing in her heart what he should do and knowing he would never do it.

"Fine," she told him, standing and making to storm out - not her usual style, but the occasion was right. "You are going to get yourself ass deep in fucking alligators, and I hope I don't have to pick up the fucking pieces," she said just as she left, allowing the door to slam behind her for added emphasis. She meant what she said; she would not be torn in half between the GSE and Matt under any circumstances.

)()()()()(

The next day, Ebony decided that they would go on a little GSE field trip and get a free Sunday roast dinner from her parents. They caught the underground to the nearest station, then Ebony lead them on foot down the short-cuts to her parents house where she had grown up, pointing out to Matt locations from her childhood, like where she'd learnt to ride her bike and where she'd been knocked off it by a car."Where are we going exactly?" Matt asked as Ebony lead them through an upmarket part of town, full of town-houses and neat lawns that would be better suited to a row of country cottages than a London suburb.

"Home," Ebony said, tearing up the steps of one of the houses in three bounds and ringing the doorbell a dozen times. The door flew open and Ebony was nearly thrown down the steps backwards by the two dogs, half-a-dozen puppies and the buxom woman who had answered the door throwing herself on her daughter.

"Ebbsy!" she cried, covering her slim daughter in a bone-crushing hug that made her shoulder click.

"Mum, don't call me that and let me go," she complained, finishing the hug and scooping up a few puppies in her arms, bundling them into the doorway as quickly as they were leaping back out. The fully grown dogs, a black and a chocolate labrador, were making sure Ebony's face got a good licking, and the puppies were being equally affectionate to the people who were collecting them off the lawn. Matt watched in astonishment as the other boys all got smothered in a hug, the woman knowing each by name and inspecting their cuts and tutting loudly, chiding each one of them about their injuries.

"Meg, it's the NHS doctor who's taking care of us," Pete said and received a swift slap to the back of the head from Ebony.

"The cheek of him!" Ebony said a little shrilly, finally capturing the last puppy and shoving it into the hallway behind Meg's legs as Meg shivvied them all inside, pushing the door closed with her foot as she led them into the living room.

"Oh, a new boy! Who's he?" Meg cried, turning to Matt and looking him over before shooting Ebony a knowing look.

"That is Matt, Mum," Ebony said and ignored the look, knowing it all too well.

"Nice to meet you," he said, extending a hand.

"You're the Yank! Oh, I like you already!" she said, pulling him into a huge and tight hug that only a mother could deal out. He coughed weakly as she released him, before she said, "He is looking very peaky."

"Peaky? You've got to be fuckin' kidding, Meg!" Meg's arm lashed out and slapped the back of Pete's head. "Shit! What was that for?"

"No fucking cussing, that shit ain't cool," she warned with a waggling finger, tongue firmly in cheek. "Tea for the lot of you? Max will be home soon," Meg asked, not waiting for an answer before she bustled into the kitchen to make tea and stack plates with cakes and biscuits.

After being plied with tea and biscuits, had the update from Meg about their lives and played with the puppies, the GSE boys and Ebony were ready to fall asleep where they sat, and Meg kept shouting random words to check they weren't dozing off, until the door flew open and a huge, towering man stood at the door in mechanics overalls.

"Oi oi savaloy!" he boomed from the hallway, kicking his boots off to one side and waving to the gathered crowd.

"DADDY!" Ebony yelped as she shot across the room, tripped over the door frame and flung herself onto the man standing in the hallway. Matt sent Pete and look, and they both sniggered. _Daddy?_

"You have grown, Ebbs, you're too fat to hold up!" he told her, grabbing her stomach teasingly and she fought his hands away, then gasped and doubled over in pain. "Yeah, I heard about you and that cunt Tommy Hatcher."

"Two pounds in the swear box, Max," Meg shouted, and ignored her husbands as he grumbled, looked as though he was about to swear again and reconsidered after the stern look his wife gave him and put a £2 coin into a jam jar on the fireplace.

"As I was saying, love, I- Oh, you must be the Yank," he said, catching sight of Matt with a smile of interest ad a small fleeting look of contempt. Ebony stood to face her father in front of Matt with a look on her face that told her dad exactly what she meant. _Don't fuck with it, Dad_.

"Dad, it's cool, okay?" she told him in a low voice, and he nodded then glanced at her and then noticed the mark on her chest, smack in the middle above her breastbone.

"Who got you with the fu- I mean, flipping signet ring?" he asked, leaning in to look harder and prodding the bruise with his fingertips gently.

"No idea," she replied, pulling back from him but keeping her eyes peeled on him. "I guess you should explain who you are, Dad," she said as she gestured towards Matt.

"What?" Max asked her in a little confusion, then caught on to what she meant.

"Max here is the original member of the GSE. He started the firm, the whole she-bang," Pete interjected. "Meanest damn motherfu- guy in the whole of London."

"I _was_. It _was_ mine, then Stevie Dunham's, now Pete's, and from what I heard, you rocked up a right fu- Flaming storm yesterday in Manchester!" he said, the pride evident in his voice and face. Matt liked Ebony's family instantly, they were welcoming and felt like and extention of the; like a sub-group of like-minded people. He imagined that the swear box would be worth a lot of money by the end of the collection process; it was already three quarters full just from when the GSE boys arrived.

"We're giving it to the British Heart Foundation," Meg said quietly from where she was sitting next to him. He turned to face her and asked her the question Ebony wouldn't answer.

"How did she get caught up in all this?"


	6. Chapter 6

Meg opened her mouth to say, "I don't bloody know," and add 50 pence to the swear box, but she resisted the urge, and chose to answer Matt's question in the only way she knew how. "Her father started the GSE, the same year Tommy Hatcher started at Millwall. I was a hang-on, but Max married me and Ebony came along. She was the apple of his eye, and she adored her dad; a complete daddies girl, you know the sort." She paused and checked whether Ebony was listening; she was deep in describing a fight, her dad pinning her to the floor while they both animatedly told the story, the GSE boys roaring in laughter.

"Anyway, when he reached a certain age, he weren't up to keeping the firm going. He asked Jack, his son, to take it over; but he wouldn't. Jack and Ebony had a barny like I've never seen," she said, sinking into the memory with a sad smile on her face.

)()()()()(

"Why not?" Ebony snapped, her arms crossed with a disbelieving look on her face. Jack, a man a few years younger than her, stood staring right back. The argument was taking place in the Abbey, which was uncharacteristically quiet as they all watched the power struggle. Ebony stepped towards her brother to try and quell his anger, but he stepped away and her face changed. "Answer me you fucking arsehole!"

"I don't want this! I've got dreams, Ebbs! Law school, a degree, a wife, 2.4 fucking kids! I don't want to die in some god-forsaken fight over nothing!" he yelled back at her and she clenched her fists in anger.

"I forget, does a medical degree not count as a dream? Just because you are too damn weak to do it, you want to leave it up to you big sister, like you do EVERY OTHER FUCKING THING!" Ebony screamed back at him, and it was only as Steve Dunham stood up behind her and snaked an arm around her waist that stopped her from ripping a new hole in her brother.

"Babe, just leave it, he's not gonna fuckin' do it," he said in a level tone. She shook her head and pulled away from her boyfriend, grabbing her brother by the front of his shirt and pinning him against the far wall, her knee hovering somewhere only a little below his crotch.

gYou need to make a choice, Jack," she hissed at him, and Jack recoiled a little from her as she derided him. "You need to choose between your family and friends, or this ridiculous dream you've got," she told him. She was concentrating hard enough that she didn't sense his hand moving, and the punch to the side of her head took her by surprise and toppled her over into the bar. "Don't play me, Jack.," she hissed, putting her hand up to the side of her head and wincing at the welt she found.

gYou want this? Really fucking want this?" he asked her, and she shrugged. He opened his mouth to speak, but received Ebony jumping on him and pulling him to the floor where she pinned him. He kneed her in the stomach and rolled them both so he was pinning her, but she had a huge advantage over him, and returned the favour by kneeing him in the groin. His break in concentration gave her time to roll out from under him and scramble to her feet coughing from the dust off the floor. Jack struggled to his feet and faced her down, but he couldn't keep the glare at his sister.

gEbbsy, maybe you should just take it?" Max suggested, and Ebony gave him a look. He tried to smile at her, but realisation dawned quicker than he could have imagined, and she was across the table and standing in front of her father with a defiant look on her face.

gThis is what you fucking well wanted all along, isn't it?" she asked him, and he tried to turn away from her. "You want me to fucking die, don't you? I love fighting, I love it, but I don't _want_ to lead the GSE, Dad!"

gWho else will, then?"

gNot me," she whispered, and turned, gathered up her bag and paused in front of a teenaged Pete. "C'mon, I'll take you home," she told him, and he jumped off his chair and hurried after her.

gYou can't run away from every fight, Ebony." She turned and looked at her dad, biting her lip.

gNo, but I can run away from the stupid choices you lot have made for me," she replied, then opened the door for Pete and followed him out. Meg stood and gave her family and Steve a glare.

gYou need to make a decision, Max, before you lose Ebony forever," she told her husband with her voice breaking as she gathered up her bag and coat and hurried after her daughter, wiping her face. She caught up with them and the three of them walked in silence to the Dunham household, where Ebony gave Pete a short hug and sent him inside to his mother, who would have been worried about him. "Ebony, I'm sorry-"

gMum, it's fine, okay? It's not your fault, but Dad... He just doesn't get it, does he?" Ebony replied, and began to lead the way back to her flat that she shared with Steve.

gHe does, he just can't accept why you don't want the GSE," Meg said and Ebony laughed bitterly. "What?"

gHe knows why! I have to keep myself clean for work! If I lead the GSE, I'll be constantly in danger, constantly a target for whoever fucking decides they want my head," she retorted. "Look at Jimmy Dunham! Dad took two weeks off to take a holiday with us, and Jimmy ends up fucking dead! Two weeks, Mum! This is my life, I can't do this," Ebony concluded, and her voice started to wobble. Meg put an arm around her daughter, trying to comfort her as best she could.

The Dunham's and the Kings had been friends for a long time, and Jimmy Dunham, who was Pete and Steve's father, had become a father figure to Ebony herself in the intervening time, so his death had a profound effect on them all. "I just want him to understand," she cried, blinking in a little surprise when she found they were outside her flat. She unlocked the door with shaking hands, almost falling into the room when it flew open, and she went straight to the kitchen and retrieved a bottle of beer and a glass of apple juice for her mother, opening the beer with her teeth and downing a large mouthful of the liquid.

gHe does understand, Ebbsy, but he just so wants you or Jack to take over the whole thing," Meg replied and sipped at the apple juice as she sat herself down on the sofa. Ebony started pacing up and down the room and drinking her beer as she went, trying to see a solution to the problem. "He was going to ask Steve to take it, if you wouldn't," Meg said quietly, and made sure to have a mouthful of juice when Ebony exploded.

gHe wants WHAT?" Ebony shouted, and had to concentrate so as not to drop her bottle of beer. "Oh, so instead of me being killed off, he wants Steve instead? Bravo, Dad," she said bitterly, and threw herself into the nearest chair. "This is fucked up," she whispered a few minutes later, her head in her hands and her eyes filling up with tears. She never normally cried, but she felt hopeless enough right then to cry more than she had in the last few years. "I just... I can't do this, Mum," she confided between sobs. Meg listened and sat quietly, handing over tissues to try and dry up Ebony's tears.

She was about to speak to her daughter when the front door flew open and Steve stormed into the front room, taking in the state of his girlfriend and the stony look her mother had on her face. "Ebony, I need a word," he said quietly, and Ebony wiped her face on her tissue and looked up at him.

gWhat?" she replied quietly with venom, and he tried to smile at her but failed.

gI've taken the GSE off your dad," he told her, and she leapt out of her seat and stood to face him, trying to control her facial expression which was switching quickly between shock and anger.

g What?" she repeated feeling a little stupid, and he stepped towards her and she moved back, almost tripping over the chair. "Are you _actually_ kidding me?"

gEbbs, it's fine! I'm basically doing it anyway," he told her and she shrugged. "Cut the attitude, it doesn't suit you." She considered pouting and storming angrily out of the flat, but she chose to stand there and look miserable. "C'mon, lighten up."

gI am perfectly 'lit up' thanks, Steve," she sniped back, polishing off her beer and heading for the fridge for a second. Her mother watched her in disapproval, but knew better than to start on her daughter when she was in such a dangerous and unpredictable mood. Ebony pulled the lid off the beer with her teeth again and dropped it into the sink before going and sitting back down.

gIt'll be okay, Ebbsy," Steve said quietly.

g Fine," she replied, but he knew from her tone and body language that she was the total opposite of fine. _Why do women have to be so damn difficult?_

g But you ain't fine," he told her densly, and actually jumped a little when she flew to her feet and lobbed the beer against the wall a few feet from his head. Meg was behind the sofa well out of reach, and gave Steve a look which said _This is your mess, you fix it._

gNo, I am not fucking fine, Steve! Your Dad died because of the firm, and you want to follow in his fucking footsteps? What next? You gonna give the damn firm to Pete now?" she screamed, and Steve stepped back from her as she advanced on him. "You are an idiot, you know that? I thought you had a couple of brain cells to rub together and make a spark, but apparently I was wrong," she ranted, then stopped so abrubtly that the silence that invaded the room felt wrong and empty. "Mum, show yourself out, I'm going to bed," she told them both quietly, stalking over the room and slamming the bedroom door behind her.

gThat went... Better than I expected," Steve said to Meg as she made her way across the room to the front door. The older woman gave him a slap on behalf of her daughter as she left the apartment, and he was left with his mind reeling and a red handprint on his cheek.

)()()()()(

gI don't think it was too long after that night that Steve met your sister," Meg concluded, taking a sip of her chilled tea to refresh her after what seemed like a tale of epic proportions. She cocked her head on one side and burst out laughing at the incredibly compromising position she saw her daughter and Pete Dunham in. "Do I want to know what you two are doing?" she giggled.

gProbably not," Ebony replied, using Pete's distraction to push him over her head and pin him to the floor by straddling his waist. "And I win again!"

g You cheated!" Pete retorted, and she laughed but let him get up. _He just couldn't face the fact that he got owned by a girl. _"Anyway, I had to let her win, look at the bleedin' state of her," he muttered, and the others all chortled in disagreement.

gYou equals fail," she said, sitting beside her Mum and winking at her conspiritorially. Meg laughed and kissed her daughters cheek, standing up to collect tea and coffee mugs that had been standing idle on various ledges, with Ebony following close behind her and collecting anything her mother missed. "What were you and Matt talking about?"

gYou, mainly," Meg replied, opening the built in dishwasher and stacking it with the used cutlery, trying to prevent the puppies from jumping into the machine with her feet. Ebony gave her a side-ways look and Meg gave her a blank face back. "The scary look may work on men, but I am your mother and it won't work on me."

gShit, I forgot," Ebony said, and flinched a little when her Mother gently punched her arm. "You meanie!"

gSo heap big GSE member is scared of her retired mum?" Meg teased, kicking the dishwasher closed and turning it on before running a damp cloth over the tea tray and tidied it away.

gI live in fear of you, Mum; you know all my secrets!" Ebony laughed, and Meg whipped Ebony's leg with the teatowel just as Ebony flicked her mum in the face with some tap water.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Wow, two chapters in one day! I'm too good to you all ^__^ Anyway, please review and enjoy this chapter, I'm hoping to have the next one up by the end of the week.

)()()()()(

Ebony hated working the switch shift; it ran from 4 until 9 in the afternoon, and though it was the shortest shift, on the weekends it was always the busiest. She'd stuffed the boys on the tube after leaving her parents house going back towards the Abbey, while she'd taken a risky shortcut which skirted around Millwall football stadium, but she liked to play with fire sometimes.

"Ebony, can you sign these prescriptions off?" Ebony jumped a little as Nicola touched her elbow and attracted her attention. "Jumpy sod!"

"Shut yer mouth," Ebony teased back, signing her name on the forms against the wall beside her. "How's the eye and the lip?"

"Shitty! How's the jaw and ribs and – heck, how are you?" They exchanged a look then laughed as Ebony completed the forms and Nicola turned to walk away, receiving a swift slap to the rump as Ebony over took her. "Now you just have to convince Pete to do that to me."

"He couldn't know what he'd catch!" Ebony laughed and dodged Nicola's slap by ducking into a treatment room where there was a teenager who's fallen through a glass window. She started the arduous task of plucking fragments of glass out of his forearms and was just finishing bandaging up his arms over the stitches when her phone rang. "I'll be right back, okay? Just hold still and take some painkillers," she told the boy, hurrying out of the treatment room and into the cold air outside the main entrance. "Steve?" she asked, and felt her throat tighten at the name.

"Ebony, Matt's a fucking journalist!" Steve shouted back at her, and she hesitated just a second.

"Steve, I-"

"You knew?" he asked, and she winced hard at the accusation, even if it was true. "Ebony!"

"I knew, okay? I've known for a few days now, but-"

"For fucks sake!" he shouted again, and she physically jumped on the spot in surprise.

"Stop fucking shouting at me!" she yelled back, and considered hanging the phone up there and then in protest. She sighed. "What do you need me to do?"

"Get to the Abbey, meet me there and make sure you beat Pete and the lads, okay?" Steve told her, and she knew him well enough to hear the anger in his voice.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, and hated how her voice shook.

"I know; I'll see you there," he replied just as quietly, and the phone went dead. She sank to the step beneath her, put her head in her hands and fought the tears that threatened to flow down her face. She took a few minutes to control herself before standing up and hurrying into the doctors lounge, leaving a garbled note for Nicola as she quickly changed out of her scrubs into jeans, a vest and her West Ham shirt, throwing a jacket over the top and charging out of the department.

)()()()()(

Pete fumed as he found clothes, Bovver, Ike and Keith waiting for him in the living room. Could Matt really be working for The Times? Was there another explanation? The journal made him hesitate; Matt had been writing about them all for weeks, even had the address of the Abbey on there. It made Pete feel physically sick that Matt could betray them all. _But could he really do it?_

He paused and sat on the bed, placing his face against his palms and taking a deep breath. He needed to be careful, not let on that he knew Matt's dad was a journalist, or else he'd be in the deep shit, too. He picked his phone up and rang Ebony, cursing under his breath when she failed to answer the phone, and left a stressed voicemail for her.

"Lets go," he said, the stress evident in his voice as he walked back into the living room, pulling his coat over his jumper and picking his wallet and keys up off the table. The others nodded and headed for Keith's car, Pete locking the door behind him. He was dreading this conversation.

)()()()()(

The Abbey was packed but incredibly quiet when Ebony flew in the door and nearly ran straight into Steve, who was looking stony at the round of applause that he received. _Shi-it_, she thought to herself, slipping past him and scouting Matt out, not returning the smile he aimed at her as she sat down in the booth.

"You alright?" he asked, and she shook her head and pulled her jacket off, laying it over the back of the booth and leaning back against it. Steve came and sat beside her and took a large gulp of the beer Terry had poured for him, giving Ebony a small glance as Terry sat down on her opposite side, placing a pint of cider in front of her.

"Cheers, Tel," she muttered and made sure to have a large mouthful of cider when the questions started to roll.

"You were the Major?" Matt asked as Steve settled back into the booth and took the hat off his head, considering his answer and looking into his beer for inspiration.

"Yeah, and Terry here was my right-hand man," Steve nodded, sipping his pint and pointedly avoiding eye contact with the little Yank. "But that was a long time ago now." Ebony chortled and went under the table to get something out of her bag, hearing the punch, seeing Matt's legs disappear and his body appear on the floor opposite her. She jumped, shooting upwards, catching her head on the edge of the table.

"FUCK!" she shouted, heading to her feet with a hand on the side of her head and, after glancing from Steve to Terry, she leapt the table deftly and stood in front of Pete.

"Don't say anything to him! He's a fucking journo!" Pete shouted, looking down at Ebony who was checking whether or not he was still conscious. He was, just bloodied and dizzy and not making a whole lot of sense as he tried to bleakly explain himself. Pete went for him again and caught Ebony by mistake with a flailing elbow as he went to grab Matt by the front over the top of her, sending her sprawling. Steve launched himself at his brother in defense of Ebony, who was flat on her back coughing weakly as she tried to reorientate herself, and it was only Terry who prevented them from killing each other there and then.

"Are you sure?" Ebony asked, catching her breath and standing up before retrieving a tissue to catch the blood running down her cheek from a cut just below her eye onto her shirt.

"What? Of course I'm fucking sure!" Pete replied, and she saw the doubt on his face.

"How? What proof do you have?" Steve asked, trying to copy Ebony's calm tone and failing miserably, stepping towards her and pulling the tissue off her face to look at the cut. The punch had set off the pain in her jaw again, and she was struggling not to cry at the pain she was in.

"Ike saw him going into The Times with all the other fucking journos!" Bovver piped up, standing to flank Pete like a bodyguard from a bad gangster film. Ebony half laughed then regretted it, pushing past Steve and picking up her cider to take a large gulp of the cold liquid, which helped settle the throbbing pain in her head.

"I was humouring my dad! He's the journalist, you knew that!" Matt told them, indicating Pete as he spoke and scrambling to his feet so he wasn't on the floor and looking up at them all. Bovver turned to look at Pete with a glare that looked like he'd just sprouted another head, and Pete braced himself for the onslaught of abuse.

"You knew?" Bovver accused, and Ebony struggled to contain her own shock at the revelation.

"Yeah, but bruv, only about his dad-" Pete started but was interupted by Bovver shouting loud enough to make them all jump where they stood.

"You shoulda fucking told us!" Bovver shouted thenstepped away, unsure whether to leave or to have a go at Pete. He made the smart, albeit surprising, choice, and turned to the older Dunham brother. "Steve, you was the Major, wont you lead us? Just for the match against Millwall."

"No, the GSE is Pete's firm, nothin' to do with me," Steve said firmly, his voice more confident now he was pretending to be calm.

"Yeah, it is," Ike agreed sheepishly, giving Pete an apologetic smile and shrinking into himself at the lack of response from Pete. _He makes quite a nice floor-lamp_, Ebony thought, then added _How hard did Pete hit me? _To that idea, surprised by the random train of thought she seemed to be engaged in.

"Fuck this," Bovver said incredulously, throwing his hands up and spitting directly in Matt's face. The American kept his cool, not wiping his face until Bovver was gone, and Ebony relaxed her shoulders as the tension dropped.

"Go and clean yourself up," Pete said, poking Matt in the chest with his forefinger and indicating the Gents. Ebony hurried him along, just pausing for enough time to give Pete a warning glare before she disappeared into the toilets behind Matt.

"I'm in deep shit, right?" Matt said stupidly as Ebony stepped closer to the mirror and examined the welt on her cheekbone carefully.

"No shit Sherlock," she replied smartly, running the warm water and fetching some toilet-roll. "Next time, get your damn face in the way when Pete wants to land you one." she told him half-jokingly, dabbing at the cut on her face with a piece of tissue and muttering that she wished she had some gauze.

"Right," Matt laughed, inspecting his nose in the grimey mirror, gingerly prodding at a nasty bulge on one side of it. "You think it's broken?" Ebony looked at it, her fingers on either side of his face, tweaked it and he squealed and his eyes watered, cowering backwards from her and bent double holding his nose in both hands.

"It'll heal straight now," she told him, tutting as she saw how much blood she had got on her West Ham shirt and peeling it off to rinse under the tap and fight with the blood. She watched Matt, doubled over and holding his nose gingerly, with a small smile on her face and tried not to laugh at his pain. Resetting broken noses were her particular favourite past-time, and she had got very quick at it over the years. She heard the door open and close, and glanced in the mirror to see Pete enter the room. "I'd stand up, if I were you."

"Why didn't you tell me you was doing journalism? Fucking History," Pete shouted, moving up close to Matt who barely reached his collarbone, but didn't move back or flinch at all. _Maybe the GSE are having a good effect on the whimpy Yank_, she thought to herself before moving to stand between them.

"Hey, hey, tone it down a bit, or I'mma beat the shit out of both of you," Ebony piped up, pushing them apart. There were very few people who would have been safe breaking up a GSE fight, but Ebony was one of the select few who could. This was all the GSE needed; a civil war over something this ridiculous.

"I quit, Pete! I told Eb-" Matt started, and Ebony winced as she heard the beginning of her name. Pete grabbed her arm as she moved away from them both and she twisted away, pushing herself up against the sink. She was shaking a little; she'd never ever physically fought with Pete outside of play-fighting, and the grabbing of her arm had scared her.

"You knew?" he asked quietly, aware of how scared Ebony was, and went to step forwards but thought better of it, instead asking her, "You okay?"

" I'm alright, just a little twitched," she lied quickly, then twisted the conversation back to the topic at hand. "Yeah, I knew, but not for long. And as he said, he fuckin' quit," she said, looking at Matt for a little confirmation that she was right, and he gave her a small nod. "The journal is just that; a diary. It's a little gay, but nonetheless., it's nothing but a journal." Pete's face contorted and he turned and punched the nearest cubicle door. Matt flinched and Ebony jumped, but neither of them moved.

"You had better be fucking right," he concluded, before turning and storming out of the room without a backwards glance.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Okay, longest chapter EVER! LOL, anyway, you guys know the drill – I write, you enjoy!**

)()()()(

After the stand-off in the gents, a quiet drink was definitely in order. Ebony, Matt, Swill and Dave sat on their usual booth, while Pete and Steve leant against the bar in heated discussion that Terry was pointedly ignoring. Bovver had abandoned the pub shortly after Pete, Matt and Ebony had disappeared into the bathroom, and his absence made Ebony doubly nervous. She felt on edge having Steve in the Abbey; he was a huge target for anyone who decided to have a go.

"You okay?" Dave asked her, and she realized that she'd been staring at nothing in particular. "You ain't said a word for almost five minutes."

"I'm fine," she lied again, her head still reeling from the events of the evening, and she still felt a pang of the fear she'd felt in the gents when Pete had grabbed her. She didn't scare easily, but the idea of hurting someone she viewed as her little brother had frightened her to her very soul.

She didn't get a single chance to continue her musings, before the nearest window shattered and a large traffic cone landed on top of Swill, knocking him out cold and showering the booth in glass. There was that moment where everything froze, and they all had what seemed hours to react, but they couldn't move. "Ebony, get Steve out of here!" She jumped and turned her body towards Pete, trying to regain herself. He shoved her in Steve's direction and Steve caught her before she hit the deck, steadying her on her feet, and everything sped back up to reality.

"Fuck, Steve, move!" she shouted and grabbed the older Dunham brother to pull him behind the bar as the main doors opened.

"'Ello, boys!" she heard, and her stomach flipped as she dropped to her knees, pulling Steve down behind her and slamming her back up against the shelving under the bar. She took a deep breath and glanced at Steve, seeing the fear in his face.

"Just like old times, huh?" she said with the best smile she could manage, and he forced a smile back.

"Yeah, just like 'em," he replied, about to add a sarcastic comment when flames exploded in front of them and they dived out of the way. Ebony nearly took Terry out, who was battling the flames, by the knees, and he lent her a hand to get back on her feet.

"Get Steve Dunham out of here!" he shouted at her, shoving her in the appropriate direction, and she had the fleeting thought that she needed to teach the boys how to treat a lady. Hurrying towards Steve, she grabbed his arm and tried to shivvy him along, heading for the fire exit she had only ever seen once, and she had been throwing up at the time.

"God, Steve! Move your arse!" she cried, suddenly losing her grip on his sleeve and hitting the floor with a thud that made even her wince and her head spin faster. "What the fuck?" she whispered quietly, her hand going to the only part of her head that hadn't been flattened by Tommy Hatcher a few nights previously. It came away wet with blood, and she let her body relax for a moment, trying to remember how to see and how to breathe. She coughed as she saw that the flames and smoke were getting closer, but her whole body felt numb from the impact to her head.

"If you die tonight, Dunham, we're even," she heard somewhere behind her, recognising the voice instantly. _Hatcher._

"No, no, Please, Tommy, c'mon!" Her heart leapt, and she fought against the numbness, rolling onto her front and trying to pull herself up, but her damaged hands wouldn't support her weight . She screamed, a short, exasperated sound, fighting to get up, surprised at the fact that she was sobbing in sheer frustration as she tried to get up.

"FUCK!" she screamed to herself, finally able to heave herself to her knees, and she turned just in time to get a faceful of Steve's blood as Tommy stabbed him. Ebony tried to stop the world spinning, but it was moving too fast for her to focus on anything that was supposed to be stationary. So she crawled along the floor towards him, her face wet with tears and not an inch of fear for her own well-being in her mind, and hoped none of the others saw her because humans were never designed to crawl with any grace, and she was learning just how painful and slow a process it was. She knelt up again and fetched a bar towel down from the bar and continued to crawl over to Steve, keeping her eyes on him so she didn't lose him in her disorientation.

"Don't move," she told him, balling the towel in her fist and pushing it hard against the wound as she reached him, glad to have something to focus on. Steve flinched and his own fists went to balls, the knucles so tight Ebony wondered if they would come out of the scarred skin, as she fought to control the bleeding. Having something to do helped her head, and she found that she could kneel without keeling over which is what she did do, applying more pressure to the towel that was already sodden through, his blood flowing over her hands. "Shit, FUCK!" she muttered, wondering what to do as she glanced around for her bag, which contained a small first aid kit. And for the second time in less than a week, she opened her mouth and screamed. "HELP!" She sounded so helpless, and she hated the way she sounded, but she couldn't worry right then; she had to worry about Steve.

"We gotta get him to a hospital!" Terry said, making to move Steve, but Ebony slapped his hands away.

"No! No, not until I can get the bleeding to slow down. Take his shoes off," she added, lifting his t-shirt and working his belt loose with one hand. "The less restriction there is on his extremities the less likely the tissues are to die," she said, completely unaware that her very captive audience had been about to jump her for taking advantage of a dying man. "Hence the belt," she added, her head clearing with every routine medical thing she did. She eased the towel back and winced as she dodged another spurt of blood, and she winced, but rearranged her features so as not to stress Steve out. "Yeah, he's still got plenty pumping around. Find a car, now," she instructed, looking down for the first time at her ruined Hammers shirt. "If you don't die, you owe me a new fucking shirt," she whispered to Steve, who managed to smile weakly back at her before they were bundled into a stolen car.

)()()()()(

The ride to the hospital had been the longest car ride any of them could remember. Ebony had stripped layers off of all of them, including her own West Ham shirt, to try and stem the bleeding, and she'd never been happier to see the front door of her work. Matt had called Nicola in the car from Ebony's phone, and the nurse was standing outside the door with a trauma team and a trolley ready and waiting.

"Male, thirty eight years old, blood type O neg, stabbed in the neck with a broken bottle less than ten minutes ago, has gone through eight aborbs so far," Ebony rattled off as Steve was lifted onto the trolley, and the doctor tried to fight her off of him.

"Ebony, you have too much invested in this case, get away now," he told her, and she pouted at him, not moving her hands as she turned her head towards her boss.

"Doctor Halliwell, this is one of my best friends. If you want me to fuck off, then you are going to have to prise my cold, dead fingers off his neck. Now are we going to stand here and bitch at one another, or are we going to do our job and save him?" she growled in a low voice, causing the GSE to glance at one another in shock at her tone.

"Fine, let's go," Halliwell agreed, and the trolley was wheeled into the department and out of sight.

"You lot, come with me," Nicola ordered, leading them into a treatment room and patching them up with steri-strips and stiches where necessary. She lent Pete some change to phone Shannon before showing them all into the family room and supplying drinks to fill the time. When Ebony finally appeared in the doorway, she looked like she'd been three rounds with Tommy Hatcher, between the smoke, blood and the tears that streaked her face and hands.

"He's going to be fine," Ebony said tiredly, standing in front of Bovver, Pete, and Matt, almost a full two hours after they'd arrived. Pete leapt up and hugged her involuntarily, and she was so shocked it took her a moment to remember what to do with her arms.

"I just called Shannon," Pete told her, and the whole room went silent as they examined Ebony's face for a reaction.

"What'd she say?" Ebony asked quietly as they broke the hug, feeling her heart sink a few notches at the prospect of a showdown with the American.

"That she would come down to say goodbye," Pete said sadly, looking down at Ebony's hands and arms. She had a thin film of blood up to her elbows, and she looked like a dalmation on her face between the soot and the blood from both herself and Steve. The Hammer's shirt had ended up being used as a second pad on Steve's neck wound, and the thin white vest-top she had underneath was bleached scarlet and sooty black.

"Ebbs!" Nicola bowled into her friend after returning from the coffee machine, staggering her backwards into Pete who managed to catch them both. "Is he okay? Are you okay? What actually happened?" she asked in a flurry of words, and Ebony gripped her friend's elbows to calm her down.

"Nic, he's fine, they've just moved him to ICU," Ebony reassured her, taking her friend's hands and steering her from the room. "The Millwall fuckers came to the Abbey, and damn near burnt the place down," she said bitterly, and Nicola stifled a gasp with her hand, stopping dead in the middle of the corridor.

"Was... He, there?" she asked, and Ebony nodded, watching her friends face change to something frightened and nervous.

"He stabbed Steve," Ebony told Nicola quietly, then stepped away from her friend and running her hands through her hair, the shock of the situation only just starting to sink in. _Steve nearly died, and you could have been killed,_ said a voice in her head, and she leant back against the wall and rested her head against it.

"Shit, Ebbs! You're bleeding!" Nicola cried, jumping forwards and pulling the taller woman away from the wall before indicating the red smudge left behind.

"Yeah, I think someone got me with a bottle," Ebony replied sheepishly, putting her hand up to feel the cut just as Shannon walked into the department. She fought Nicola off because she was fussing over the injury, and moved towards the dark haired American, trying to come over as calm and unoffensive as possible. Pete appeared in front of her and just as Shannon drew level with them Ebony dodged the poorly aimed slap.

"How could you? You're... You're... Sick!" she screamed, slapping him all the while and Ebony grabbed her and pulled her away, trying to calm her anger.

"Shan, it was my fault," she said quietly as Shannon pulled away from Ebony's grip, then looked at her like the whole world had come crashing down on her head and Ebony stood with her finger on the big red button.

"You? I told you to stay away from my family," she hissed, turning to fully face Ebony again, who towered above Shannon's tiny frame, but was trying her best not to impose herself over the smaller woman.

"I was trying to help. But you wouldn't ever get that, would you? You conceited, boyfriend stealing bitch!" Ebony replied, her voice dead-pan as her face, but the stony look on Shannon's face made her want to laugh. Matt bit his lip not to giggle, unsure who would do the most damage to him – his sister or Ebony.

"Well, you try to move up in this world, not down," Shannon replied curtly, her voice venomous and her face going an attractive shade of red. Ebony laughed bitterly before answering.

"You would know, wouldn't you? How low did you have to stoop to steal Steve, I wonder?" she asked rhetorically, wincing a little when Shannon's eyes narrowed.

"At least his taste had improved," she said cruelly, looking Ebony up and down. She felt a little sick, seeing all of the blood covering the doctor, but anger was still her main emotion, and she had been waiting for this argument for nearly ten years.

"Your brother might disagree, I mean after all, we did sleep together." Shannon stopped and her mouth dangled open on it's hinges as Ebony stuffed her fist into her mouth, her cheeks as red as her t-shirt.

"You what?" Ebony and Shannon both turned and glared at Pete to shut him up, which gave Shannon time to come up with a good comeback.

"Well... Well..." The American stuttered a little, hunting for a sarcastic word or phrase.

"I'm a slut, you're a bitch, let's get over it, shall we?" Ebony offered with a small smile, and Shannon's face crumpled into something between a cry of pain and sadness and a barking laugh, and she folded herself into Ebony's arms. "Sorry," she mouthed to Matt, who was getting funny stares from the other two and who's cheeks were as red as his sisters. Shannon came up for great gulps of air and pulled away from Ebony, grabbed the handle of the pushchair and rolled out to see Steve. She needed to get the goodbyes over and done with, and for once, the two women in Steve Dunham's life seemed to have drawn a line in the sand – and he missed the whole thing.

"Birds," Bovver said, looking at Pete for some reassuring gesture that he could be forgiven - he got a blank and angry glare back, and he went back to pulling a polystyrene cup apart.

"Look, I'm going to find some clothes that don't smell like Steve's insides, you lot try to fucking behave," Ebony told them, walking out of the room towards the doctor's locker room. She pulled open her locker, rummaging through it to find some suitable clothes, and settled for some clean jeans and a plain white shirt that she usually kept for days when she had to go outside the hospital, along with a change of underwear and shoes. She got changed as quick as she could, then flopped down onto the sofa and put her head into her hands, finally allowing the tears she'd been fighting all night to flow over her face, so hard she didn't hear the door open.

"You want to talk?" Nicola asked as she stood just inside the door way, a cup of steaming tea in each hand, and feeling a little concerned about her friend who barely cried at all.

"Not really mate," Ebony admitted, taking the tea gratefully and sipping it, gripping the cup tightly as she tried to wipe her face with the cuff of her shirt. Nicola sat down beside her, and they sat in silence for a few seconds. "I thought he was gonna die tonight, Nic," Ebony said quietly after a few minutes of sitting in silence, not making eye contact with her friend at all.

"I know, honey, I really do," Nicola replied, putting her hand on Ebony's knee for support.

"He would have died, if Hatcher had got his way," Ebony said, feeling anger surge through her in a familiar wave that chased away her tears. "He needs a lesson taught to him."

"What are you talking about? Ebony, he battered the shit out of you! He could have killed you!" Nicola said in exasperation, shocked at what her friend was suggesting.

"He had a better go at Steve, and for that he deserves everything he gets," Ebony hissed back, feeling better with every surge of anger that rode through her. Nicola shook her head and stood, circling around to investigate the wound on the back of Ebony's head.

"Is your vision okay? This needs stitching, it's pretty deep, though it's stopped bleeding," she told Ebony, but she already knew the answer before her friend even started to talk.

"My vision is fine," Ebony replied stonily, flapping her hand half-heartedly at her friend to keep her away from the injury, which was beginning to throb uncomfortably. "I don't want stiches, they hurt too damn much, I'll clean it later, okay? Just, leave me be."

"I'll take you off the roster for tomorrow, then," Nicola said, trying to make her displeasure at being treated so badly by her best friend plain in her voice. Ebony laughed bitterly.

"I might be here, I just wont be working. You never know your luck, maybe I'll come in a body bag."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: This is one of the most emotionally intense chapters I've ever written, particularly the beginning, (also not helped by the fact Eva Cassidy's Fields of Gold was playing on my iPod), but anywhoo, I hope you enjoy it! Review's feed mah muse ^.^

)()()()()(

Ebony jerked awake and was greeted with a dull ache in her head and her back. She frowned for a moment; had she hurt her back? She didn't remember doing so, and the fact that she was struggling to remember the night before made her a little worried.

There was the faint beeping of hospital monitors all around her, and she jumped to her feet in a panic, scattering her handbag and it's contents all over the shining plastic floor. Turning around, she saw the chair she had been asleep in, pushed against the edge of Steve's bed, who had just woken up at the sudden noise, and he tried to smile at her.

"Stay still, you'll tear your stitches," she told him, and he laughed.

"She's gone, ain't she," he said quietly. Ebony looked at him, and nodded, watching tears well in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, and started collecting up her belongings to hide her own tears. She hated herself for what had happened, and then she remembered the fight. "Steve, I have to go," she said, growling in frustration and hurling the bag to the floor when she couldn't fit everything back into it.

"Please don't go, Ebbsy," he pleaded, catching her arm with his hand, and she didn't fight him again. "Please, I can't lose you too."

"How could you miss what you haven't had in ten years?" she snapped, and regretted taking her anger out on him as he flinched. She leant forward and kissed his forehead, pausing a few inches away from his face and looking into his blue eyes. "I'm coming back, okay?" she promised, then peeled his fingers off her arm, not looking back as she ran for the front door.

)()()()()(

"Ebony! Ebbs, please don't go!" Nicola screamed, leaping after her friend, though Ebony hardly noticed Nicola tugging on her arm, trying to pull her back into the hospital through the main doors.

"Nic-"

"No! NO Ebony Charlotte King! You have to stay, you can't leave me! You can't!" she cried, and Ebony hugged her tightly, fighting her own emotions.

"Nicola, I have to. I can't sit here twiddling my thumbs and waiting for a call, I just... I can't," Ebony whispered, holding her sobbing friend tightly. "I'm coming back, okay?" she said firmly, pulling Nicola back so they could make eye contact. Her friend's face was dull, darkened by tear-streaks and full of concern and her eyes were puffy with the tears she was shedding, desperate to stop Ebony from leaving.. She had followed her all the way from the Intensive Care Unit, shouting her name, but Ebony had not heard her.

"You had better, because... I don't know what I'd do without you," Nicola whispered, and Ebony gave her a smile.

"Sisters, forever, right? You need to go and look after Steve, Nicola, until I get back," she said, then left her friend standing on the steps in a state of hysteria.

She jogged to the main road, and when she got there, she started to run, her brain working overtime as she tried to plan a shorter route to the Warf. She ducked down an alleyway, navigating her way through piles of rubbish and, through not looking where she was going, ran square into someone. "Shit, do you fucking walk mu- Swill?" She suddenly realised that, in a moment of blind luck, she had found him on route to the Abbey.

"Fuckin' 'ell, I though I was about to be jumped!" he laughed, helping her back up and she laughed.

"How's the head?" she enquired, aware that she hadn't asked him the night before when he'd turned up in A&E having come around on his back with Terry fanning his face.

"Fucking sore, thanks," he replied as they turned the corner and saw the rest of the GSE waiting outside the ruined pub.

"We was wondering when the fuck you'd get here," Dave said, obviously pleased to see them as he stepped over to stand in front of Ebony, and she slapped him on the arm.

"You know me, I wouldn't miss a scrap," she replied, grinning instantly as she joined Pete.

"You're late," he chided, then winked at her. "How's Steve?"

"Shitty, to be honest," she told him, and shrugged. "He didn't want me to leave, it was pretty heartbreaking."

"You do know that he still really likes ya, right?" he asked her, and laughed at the look on her face. "Wow, you really are a dim bird." She slapped him on the cheek then smiled. "Bully."

"Arsehole."

"Cheeky slag."

"Blonde numpty."

"Enough, we'd better go," Pete said with a smile, and she gave him an honest smile back as they all set off, Pete, Ebony and the top boys leading the rest of the firm down the road. She didn't want to follow them; she wanted to be at home, tucked up in bed, or busy at work, or having a pint, or walking the dog, chasing Matt around the apartment with a pillow in her hand. But the GSE was her family, and you stuck with family until the bitter end.

)()()()()(

Tommy Hatcher and all his thugs were waiting for them when they got to the Warf, Tommy sporting a sizeable bruise to his face from where Steve had decked him with an ashtray. Ebony's brain instantly switched on the fight or flight response, and her whole body tingled as it prepared to run, adrenaline flowing through her body and making her hands shake.

Her body tensed as got it's wish and the two firms charged at one another, preparing for one of the bloodiest fights in Firm history, but she didn't run away. He knee connected instantly with Mike's, Hatcher's right hand man, crotch and her shoulder hit him squarely in the nose as she rode him to the floor. He rolled them over, his considerable weight on her pelvis stopping her from moving an inch. She watched his fist come back and twisted her head away, meaning he punched the floor and let out an exasperated cry.

"Stay still you bitch!" he screamed at her as she wriggled and fought, desperately trying to get out from under him so she didn't get any worse hurt. He moved his weight to her ribcage and she felt the two smallest ribs crack under him. She screamed at the pain and he hesitated for just a second, giving her enough time to arch her back and make him fall forwards to she could roll out from underneath him. She coughed hard, the wind completely knocked out of her and her ribs protesting to the movement violently, sending waves of pain up and down the front of her body. She staggered slightly as someone hit her side on, and she fell face first into the dust.

"Shit," she muttered, trying to stand up but her body preventing her from moving. She tried to remember how to breathe, in out, in out, whilst simultaneously trying to keep an eye on Mike, who had been tackled by an older GSE member.

"Ebbs?" She rolled onto her front and prepared to get up just as Ike pulled her to her feet and she found that she could stand without keeling over.

"I'm okay," she told him, and he gave her a smile before he dashed off somewhere. Just as she turned her head to see what had happened to Mike, he landed a punch to her right shoulder and she felt it dislocate. She screamed loud and hard, her eyes filling with tears as his fists rained on her and she hit the floor again. Everything took on a fuzzy quality, and she was aware that there was blood running into her eyes, mixing with the tears and dust. _I hurt_, she thought to herself.

Then she heard Matt scream "Shannon!", and Ebony's vision cleared nearly instantly.

Forcing herself to her feet, she pushed her shoulder joint back together and span around, trying to locate Pete. She saw him, leaning on the wall a few feet from her, his eyes on the Landrover that had pulled into view. She stumbled towards him and started looking at his face, the beating taking it's toll. "Ebony, you and Matt go get Shannon out of here," he said.

"No way, you're too badly hurt to leave!" she told him, noticing that he wasn't weight-bearing on his left leg. She dropped to her knees and ran her fingertips up the front of his leg, locating three breaks and a dislocated kneecap. "Shit, Pete, I'm not going anywhere," she told him, standing back up and pulling his arm around her shoulders to support his weight.

"Ebony, go!" he told her, retracting the arm she had taken. She turned to look at the Landrover, then looked back at Pete. She couldn't choose. How could she ever decide? "GO!" he yelled, pushing her towards the car. She looked confusedly at him, but turned and ran for the car and Shannon who had just got out of it.

"Get in the car!" she shouted, spotting Mike breaking out of the fray and lumbering in Shannon's direction. Ebony caught up with Matt then over took him at full sprint, though Shannon herself seemed in too much shock to respond.

Ebony got to her before Mike did and she pushed her into the drivers seat and slammed the door home, just as she felt something hard and solid connect with her lower back. Her knees buckled, and she only stopped from falling to the floor by grabbing the car's exterior trim. "You are cruisin' for a bruisin'," she muttered to herself as she waited for the feeling to come back into her legs. For the first time since she had had her first GSE fight, she was worried for herself. Her feet tingled and wouldn't take her weight. Her arms ached and she let herself fall, her head connecting with the floor and inducing a lovely euphoric feeling for a few moments. She almost giggled, but found herself unable to do much but lay still, feeling blood pooling under her back.

The feeling didn't change, and she felt sick with worry. _I could be paralysed_, was the thought floating around in her mind as she stared at the blue sky. "Ebony, Ebony, wake up!" She hadn't realized her eyes were closed, so she whipped them open to find herself looking at Dave shaking her shoulders, his eyes full of tears. "It's Pete, I think Hatcher's killed 'im!"

"What? Where?" she asked, lifting herself up by her elbows and wriggling her toes, a wave of relief washing over her when she realized they responded. "Help me up, I think my back's broken," she said, and he looked panicked. "My spine isn't broken, I think I've cracked a vertebrae, I'll be alright." He nodded and helped her up, supporting most of her weight and helping her limp over to Pete's side, where she slumped back down and leant forwards to rest her head against his chest. She counted heartbeats and listened for broken ribs, and the fact that his heartbeat was there and his chest was clear made her happy – beyond happy. She tucked his right hand under his cheek and pulled him into the recovery position, checking his airway before calling for someone to dial 999 for an ambulance, though that was the last thing she remembered before darkness took her away.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: A bit of a filler chapter, but the next chapter or two promises to be quite intense and interesting both for me as a writer and you guys as readers. Anypoo, enjoy and R&R!**

"Shit, what happened to her?" Nicola screamed, descending on the trolley containing Ebony and only seeing the very worst of the situation – she was unconscious, strapped to a spinal board, covered in blood and scrapes, and had needles in both arms. She checked the bags, then turned to the paramedic. "What's going on?"

"She's got a fractured vertebrae," he told her, and Nicola looked away for a second, gathering her thoughts, before grabbing her friend's hand. "We're taking her to surgery, along with Peter Dunham who-"

"Pete?" Nicola squeaked, dropping Ebony's hand and running into the Ambulance bay. She saw the man laying so still that she had to He looked worse than Ebony, and Nicola fell to the curb and put her face in her hands, crying.

"Nicola," Matt said quietly, sitting beside the sobbing woman and putting his arm around her, trying to contain himself. "They'll be fine, really they will," he said forcefully, a small smile on his lips at the paramedics trying to wrestle Bovver to a trolley to treat his own injuries and failing, as the overwrought man leapt from the trolley and headed after Pete. "They have to be."

"I know, I just..." Nicola trailed off, then laughed. "I'm going to kill Ebony – she said she'd cover my shift tomorrow." Matt laughed with her then stood up, offering her his hands to help her up, which she gratefully took, and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her scrubs, tutting at the make-up that was being wiped away. "I must look like a flamin' panda!"

"Nope, you look like Nicola," Matt replied, dodging a slap from her as she lead the way back into the hospital to tell Steve the news.

)()()()()(

Ebony woke up and immediately wished she hadn't. Her head hurt, her hand _really_ hurt, and her back was trying to escape out of her skin judging by the pain while her chest felt like there was an elephant sitting on it. "What the fuck?" They weren't necessarily the first words she wanted the gathered crowd sitting around her bed to hear, but at least they were words.

"Ebony Charlotte King!" Ebony turned her head and had a fleeting glimpse of her mothers face before she was half-smothered in a hug.

"Mum, can't breathe," she called, taking a large theatrical gasp when she was finally released. She looked around her bed and saw Nicola, Swill, her dad and her mum sitting in the uncomfortable chairs provided by the hospital in between the large bunches of flowers that were dotted around her bay. "Pass me my chart," she asked Nicola who handed the clipboard over. Ebony saw the worried look on her friends face and stuck her tongue out, instantly regretting it as she stuck her tongue out to it's full extent and saw the red cuts on the tip. "Whaa?"

"You bit your tongue during surgery," Nicola told her, then laughed. "You should have seen the size of it a few days ago!"

"So glad my discomfort is entertaining," Ebony replied, opening the chart and reading the current injuries list. A broken left wrist, two cracked vertebrae, a fractured jaw, a fractured orbital bone, a cracked tooth, and she got bored after reading halfway down the list of bumps, scrapes, cuts and bruises. _No wonder I feel like shit_, she thought to herself. "Well, that's quite an impressive list and – Swill, why have you written 'Struggle and Grunt' on my cast?" she asked with a confused look on her face as she studied the various signatures on her cast intently.

"I thought it'd make ya laugh," he said going red, and she laughed then found a signature she didn't want to see.

"Bovver was here?" she asked quietly, scratching absently at her fingers that protruded out of the end of the cast, angry that he'd have the cheek to turn up and sign her cast.

"Yeah, I popped in." They all turned their head and saw Bovver standing at the entrance of her bay, clasping a box of her favourite chocolates and looking sheepish. "I brought these for you."

"Sure, come here," Ebony replied. The shifty looking man smiled and stepped up to the side of the bed, but wasn't expecting her reactions to be as quick as they were as her plastered hand went back and connected with the side of his face, splintering the cast and drawing blood instantly. "Now, FUCK OFF," she shouted, snatching the chocolates out of his hand and beginning to rip the plastic off them. Bovver tried to come out with a come back, but found himself face to face with Nicola.

"Sod off before I make her hit you again," Nicola warned, and pushed him out of the bay before turning and sitting back down to a round of applause from the others and Swill grabbing her and proclaiming that she was a 'classy lemon'. "Shhh!"

"That must have hurt," Max said to his daughter who was pulling what was left of the cast off her arm. She shrugged, then said,

"It did hurt, but God almighty do I feel better," she concluded, raising a laugh from the rest of them which died down when they saw the look on her face. "Is Pete alright?" she asked quietly, and from the glances that went between them all, she knew the answer. "He's dead, isn't he," she decided, her voice flat.

"Not exactly – He's got a pretty nasty brain injury, and he's in the ICU at the moment, still unconscious, but they reckon he'll be okay," Nicola told her friend, hoping to cheer her up. "Steve went home yesterday, too, but he said to call when you woke up."

"Good, I'm glad for him. Is he okay? I mean, after what happened to Pete?" Ebony asked, and Max and Meg exchanged a knowing glance. "Stop even thinking it – me and Steve are in the distant past," she snapped irritably.

"Look at what's left of your cast," Meg replied to her daughter, handing her the many shards of plaster that were left. Ebony hunted through the signatures that were visible, hunting for Steve's untidy scrawl, and found it under where her wrist would have been inside the cast.

_Ebony, you better wake up – call me, 07786754124, Steve x._

She smiled briefly but quickly covered the emotion, trying to turn her thoughts to Pete. "I need to go and see Pete," she said, changing the mood abruptly from that of a happy, teasing general mood to a much more sombre one.

"I'll get you a wheelchair," Max said, understanding his daughter's feeling towards the younger Dunham brother. He knew how close the two families were – in fact, Pete was his Godson and Ebony was Jessica Dunham's God daughter, and the children had grown up together on the same estate and gone to the same schools. He hoped that they'd get another chance to spend more time together.

)()()()()(

Intensive care wards creeped Ebony out; they were always so still and quiet, the deafening silence punctuated only by the occasional wail of sorrow from a grieving relative about to turn off a machine that was keeping their loved-one alive. Max wheeled her to the very end of the ward and put the brakes on the wheelchair beside the bed there before leaving her to get a drink for both of them.

Pete looked about five years younger than he had when she'd last seen him, and if you took away the multitude of tubes, wires, bandages and plasters across his skin, he'd look like he was asleep. Ebony felt like jumping on him and shaking him awake, expecting him to leap up and shout BOO any second. She settled on pushing herself to the end of the bed and rooting through his medical file.

_Diagnosis: Suspected brain hemorrage, unconscious on arrival following severe fight. Shattered left kneecap. Several other minor broken bones, grazes and cuts._

_Treatment: In drug-induced coma. 100 Saline, IV wide open. Casting of left leg, toe to hip. Morphine administered regularly. Four titanium plates inserted in skull, brain responding well._

_Prognosis: 90 chance of full recovery of leg and other broken bones. 100 chance of healing of cuts and abrasions. 40 chance of awaking with no brain damage._

She sighed and tipped her head back against the back of the wheelchair and bit her lip as her tears threatened to disobey her and fall.

"You okay?" She jumped and cursed as the injury to her back screamed in pain from the sudden movement as she turned to see Matt standing a little behind her.

"I'd be better if you didn't fucking sneak up on me," she quipped, and he broke a smile before taking the seat opposite her. She noticed that there was a pillow and a hospital issue blanket draped over the back of the chair, along with a stack of newspapers, books and energy drinks, suggesting that the little Yank had been spending a lot of time up here.

"I did come visit you, too, but you were pretty out of it," he told her, and she nodded in agreement as she put the file back into the holder at the end of the bed. "How do you feel?"

"Like shit, if I'm honest. How long was I out for?" she asked, a little surprised at herself for not asking someone before.

"About a week, I think. I've kinda lost track of the days," he told her and she laughed. "What's funny?"

"You – what else?" Ebony giggled, then added, "How are you doing?"

"I've been better, but it's been kinda nice this week, spending a bit of time with Nic," he confided, making Ebony laugh a little harder. "Now what?"

"I've never heard anyone say that it's nice spending time with Nicola," she replied, and he laughed along with her for a few seconds. "He'll get better, Matt, really he will," she said confidently, used to lying to families about the state of their loved ones. "And then when he comes 'round, I can kill him."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Well, here's chapter eleven, one big long one without many breaks, but with a little more development of the whole Ebony/Steve relationship. R&R if you care to!**

)()()()()(

"I am going home," Ebony snapped, pulling her bag out of Matt's hands as she rooted through it and selected a shirt two sizes too big. The physiotherapist had strapped her back up in something akin to a corset to protect her back, and the cast she'd ruined over Bovver's head had been replaced and recovered in rude rhyming slang. Add that to the fact she'd been laid in bed for three days after she'd woken up, Ebony was bored out of her skull.

"You can't go home, look at the state of you!" Ebony gave Matt a look and he put one hand up in defeat then laughed. "I guess I should know better than to tell you what to do."

"Damn right you should," she agreed, struggling into the shirt and settling it over the cast and the corset with a sigh. "I hate these bloody things – they never fit right."

"You would complain if it fit right or not," Steve added as he stepped around the curtain to a smirk on his face. He looked like he'd aged about ten years in the last two weeks, the stress of losing his wife and son, his brother being in a coma and the knowledge that Tommy Hatcher was not finished in his revenge against the Green Street Elite was keeping Stevie Dunham up at night.

"Oh, great, another fucking expert," Ebony replied, zipping up her bag deftly with her right hand and leaning her elbow of her left hand against the bag to hold it still. "What're you doing here, anyway?" she asked as she fetched her handbag from the locker beside her bed.

"My stitches had to come out, and I figured you'd want a lift home," Steve replied quietly, sitting on the bed and placing her bag on his lap. He had the same quality as his brother in that no matter where they stood or sat, they just seemed to fit into the room or location they were in. She stuck her tongue out at him as she slung her handbag over her right shoulder and paused in front of him.

"Fine, but you can carry the holdall," she told him before walking a little unsteadily towards the nurses' station to discharge herself. She signed the paperwork automatically, used to signing such forms when she was allowed to work, and took the discharge letter from the nurse on duty.

"Don't forget, Dr King, that you have physiotherapy next Wednesday," the nurse said sternly, and Ebony flashed her a smile.

"I wont, thanks for looking after me and stuff – I know that doctors are the worst patients," she apologised, and the nurse laughed.

"You have been rather frustrating, but nothing that we can't deal with. And anyway, the steady stream of handsome male visitors more than makes up for your personality," the nurse teased, leaning around Ebony to oogle at Steve and wink at him. "Is he single?"

"Yep, but way out of your league," Ebony replied hautily, grabbing her handbag off the counter and hobbling as quickly as she could manage towards the lifts, with Matt and Steve hurrying behind her. "Horny bitch."

"Pardon me?" Steve asked at Ebony's sudden outburst.

"S'alright, that nurse had an eye on you, but I put her off," she replied coldly, and the two men accompanying her exchanged glances which she pretended not to see. She jabbed frantically at the button for the ground floor, leaning against the wall to take some of the pain out of her back. "When will they invent button technology that understands urgency?"

"You only have to press it once, the lift is already moving," Steve chided, pulling her finger away from the button, and sighing when she angrily stuffed her hand in her pocket with a huffing noise. "You never change, Ebbsy."

"You'd know something was up if I did," she replied as the doors opened into the main atrium of the hospital, that was built separately to the A&E department. The atrium was full of pieces of artwork and dotted with plaques depicting royalty who had opened various wards and areas of the hospital over the years, and housed the shop and a coffee stand, though the A&E staff referred to it as the 'Fuelling Station'. Ebony paused and turned to Matt, knowing he wanted to stay and wait by Pete's bedside – if for no other reason but to keep Bovver away. "You come and visit me, okay? Don't spend every moment here, or you'll go barking," she told him and hugged him tightly, surprising him a bit. "And for fucks sake, ask Nicola out before she drives _me _mad!" she scolded, slapping his cheek gently before moving away from him to follow Steve to his car.

"You like my new car?" Steve asked her as he unlocked a huge Landrover Discovery with the remote, a smile of pride on his face.

"Yeah, I remember you first car, too. A poxy little Astra that looked like West Ham gift shop threw up in it," she teased gently, eyeing up the car from a distance.

"You mean you remember the back seat," Steve replied, and Ebony put her hand across her mouth in mock-shock. "Don't pull that face at me, you know it's true." She walked over to him and punched his arm as she passed, pulling the door open and assessing the height of the seat.

"Steve? Little help, here," she called, throwing her bag into the footwell and looking nervously at the two-foot jump she was suppose to perform – with a fractured back. _Oh, yeah, brilliant. _She grabbed the inside of the door and the seat and tried to throw herself into the car, landing half in and half out of the door. "FUCK!"

"Now how fuckin' stupid do you look?" Steve laughed, and she aimed a kick in his direction which missed. He walked around the car and got in the drivers seat to pull the hapless female into the passenger seat, a ridiculous smile plastered on his face the whole time.

"Wipe the smile off your face, you look like you slept all night with a fucking hanger in your mouth," Ebony replied breathlessly, pulling the door closed a little harder than she intended to, causing the whole car to rock on it's suspension.

"Mind the panels, Dove," Steve said then blushed. He hadn't called her that in a long, long time, and she giggled.

"Man, I haven't heard that nickname in a while," she admitted, and they both laughed as he started the car and pulled away. "What is it you do, exactly? I mean, a common boy of some god-awful estate driving an £80,000 car is a little odd."

"Ah, well, I sell businesses around the world to other businesses, like, a merger and stuff," he explained, and she frowned at him. "Right, you're smart, you don't need to be treated like a kid, I remember. Basically, if the NHS want to buy Lloyds Pharmacy, I organise it."

"I'm sorry, I thought I actually fell asleep during that wonderful description," she said with a yawn, and he slapped her leg. "Oi, injured bird here, you have to play nice."

"Remind me, why?" She tutted in response and began fiddling with the buttons on the door to open and close the window, tilt the mirror and change the seat position. Then, she found the button that set off the vibrations and massager in the chair.

"You kinky sod, no wonder you like this car so bloody much," she said with her voice quivering from the vibrating seat. Steve laughed as he reached the IDR, accelerating up to the speed of the traffic before they spoke again.

"Ebbsy, why didn't you move out of our flat when we broke up?" he asked her quietly, and she suddenly found a stain on her jeans incredibly interesting. "Ebbs, don't avoid the question."

"I liked it there, even if you didn't," she replied curtly, trying to cross her arms but finding herself unable to because of the cast and the corset supporting her back. "Steve, what changed? What made living and being with me so bad that you married some Yank?"

"I changed, Ebbs. I couldn't carry on with the GSE after Tommy Junior was killed," he told her, and she snorted in laughter.

"Steve, you didn't even _try_ to carry on. Not once did you try and talk to me, not once! I tried for weeks to help you, but you just... Pushed me away, and now..." She stopped as he pulled up outside the block of flats, and she felt sick at the thought of finally being on her own. Pulling his hand off the steering wheel, she scribbled her new mobile phone number on his hand. "My phone got lost somewhere between the Warf and the hospital, so I've got Dave's old one. Don't leave it too long, Steve," she warned, pushing the door open and undoing her seatbelt, sliding to the floor and closing the door. She resisted the urge to shout abuse at him as she pulled the boot door open and retrieved her holdall, pulling the flat keys out of the front pocket and slamming the door behind her.

She felt sick as she unlocked the door into the foyer, looking around the familiar hallway for a few seconds until she heart the monster car pull away, before moving towards the lifts and pressing the call button. The lift opened, and she was greeted by the smiling face of her elderly neighbour, Mr Crisp. "Hiya, how's it going?" she asked him, putting her hand out to catch the doors for him as he wheeled his shopper out of the lift.

"Better than you my dear," he said, and she laughed. "How are you?"

"Sore, stiff, achey, but I'll live. Thanks for the book, by the way," she said honestly, and the old man waved her thanks off.

"Think no more of it, you just get some rest," he said, pushing past her to go shopping. She stepped into the lift and hit the correct button, very glad to be going home. And, when she opened the door of her flat, she couldn't help but smile widely at the decorations put up by her family, and the large bow tied around her dog's neck. He flopped over to her, and she scratched his ears as she walked to the coffee table to read the note left there.

_Ebony, _

_I've stocked up your fridge, paid the bills and looked after Benjy for you, you look after yourself now,_

_Mum and Dad_

_PS – Don't drink all the cider at once!_

She laughed and tossed the note aside to put her holdall on the coffee table and started to unpack. She shuddered, like something had traipsed over her grave. "Shit," she whispered, hobbling to the front door and locking it from the inside, making sure to put the chain on before she stepped away from it. She hurried around the apartment, locking all the windows and pulling the drapes across all of them until the whole place was bathed in darkness, where she slipped onto the floor in front of the kitchen cabinets and cried. She was _scared_, really, bone-deep scared of what could happen now she was finally alone. What if her stitches ripped? Her cast broke? What if... What if Tommy Hatcher and Mike Thompson came to finish her off?

She stood up unsteadily, pulling herself up on the cabinets and went for her mobile, hitting speed dial one before she realized who she'd end up calling. _Pete is at hospital, Ebony, think again. _She opened the phone-book and read the list of people on it. Bovver, Ike, Swill... She shook her head and fought the old cast out of her bag, dialling the number she found there. "Steve?"

**A/N: Ooooh, another cliff-hanger! Sorry guys, but it keeps you interested ;).**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Suggested Music – Because of You – Kelly Clarkson.**

**So so SO sorry about the long wait; I've had major writers block recently, and it only lifted today. Kind of a short chapter, but it's leading us somewhere good. I hope you enjoy a little Steve/Ebony loving!**

-_-_-

Steve knocked on the door, a little nervous by her tone on the phone. "Who is it?" she yelled through the door, and he opened the letter box and saw her standing there with a candlestick raised above her head.

"Open the door, Ebony," Steve told her, and she considered that for a minute.

"Why should I?" she snapped, not relinquishing her hold on the candlestick.

"Hang on, you called _me _to come around, remember?"

"Yeah, right," she replied, pulling the door open with her left hand and keeping the candlestick held high. She whipped the door closed behind him and locked it, checking each lock twice before stepping away from the door and putting the candlestick down on the coffee table, running her fingertips through her hair and pacing up and down the room. "I can't stay here," she told him quietly, and he looked around the darkened room, noticing that she hadn't even unpacked. "What if... Hatcher or Thompson come back for me?" she whispered, and Benjy nudged at her hand and licked her wrist before sitting on her foot with a sigh.

"You're right, he could come back," Steve agreed, and she felt her jaw drop in shock.

"Way to make me feel better," she snorted, walking to the kitchen and opening the fridge to retrieve a bottle of cider.

"Woah, dejá vú," Steve said quietly, sitting down on the sofa beside her discarded handbag with a sigh, checking his watch. "You need to go to the police, Ebbsy."

"Oh, yeah, I can just see that – Steve, I'll have to dob in the whole GSE if I do, and I ain't doing that," she snapped, dodging around the over-sized dog as she paced and scratching the top of his head when it fell under her fingertips. "What the hell do I do now?"

"I don't fucking know! You're better at the whole advice thing than I am."

"Yeah, I've noticed." She sat down on the end of the sofa with a sigh, Benjy jumping up and slumping his huge weight against her, resting his chin on her shoulder to lick her ear. "I never asked Nicola if she was okay, you know."

"If she wasn't, that daft bint would have said sommat," Steve replied, knowing that Nicola had a nearly permanent case of verbal diarrhoea. "She can't help but share too many details of her life."

"Like that time she came running in to maths shouting about how she'd got her period?" Ebony remembered with a smirk, shaking her head gently.

"Or when she asked Mr Crean if he owned a thong, and would he like to borrow one of hers for his big date?"

"Or the best one – 'Mr Crean, I don't 'spose you have a tampon in your desk?' I swear I broke a rib laughing at that one," Ebony laughed, still seeing Nicola asking her middle-aged male teacher about tampons. "Where did I find her?"

"You'll never know – people like that just appear, and you can't shake 'em off," Steve said with a grin on his face, and she pulled a silly face at him. "The wind will change and you'll be fucking stuck like that."

"I was doing my Steve impression," she teased, rubbing her dog's chest as he slipped down the sofa onto his back. "Tarty dog."

"When did he get so fat? I mean, when I left he was only eight months old, but was skinny as a rake," Steve told her, stroking the dog in the opposite direction and laughing at the grunting noises the animal produced.

"Welcome to eighteen-hour days, living off coffee and ready meals and about one walk a week," Ebony replied, picking up her cider and taking a few deep gulps. "I can't stay here, Steve, I'm... I'm scared of being here on my own," she admitted, refilling her mouth with the cider to prevent from saying anything stupid. Steve smiled at her and considered his answer very carefully.

"I don't know what to tell you. You could stay with your parents?" He saw the look she gave him and he remembered that he brother still lived at home with his parents. "Yeah, right, Jack, urm, what about round Pete's with Matt?"

"He snores and is allergic to the dog," she replied.

"How do you know he snores?"

"Steve, big picture here!"

"Oh, yeah, right. Well I've got that big ol' house for itty bitty-" He paused when she giggled. "What?"

"Mate, you were only itty bitty when you were 18 and going to the gym five times a week," she teased and he punched her on the arm gently.

"You're so fucking cheeky," he said with a smile. "Okay, I've got a big fuck-off house just for fat and huge me, so if you want, you can stay with me. Bring Benjy with you, if you want to," he said and she nodded.

"Okay, but... Steve, I can't deal with the drama in your life. I need a purely platonic relationship, no funny business, right?" she asked him and he shook his head.

"I get that, and to be fair, I could use a bit of company. The house... It's so empty without Shannon and little Ben there, it feels wrong being there alone," he admitted. "And you're packed already!"

"I'll need more than pyjamas and three pairs of knickers if I'm going to stay away for an indeterminable length of time, Steve. I am female."

"I remember a holiday when you wore the same pair of pants the whole weekend," Steve teased and she hit him with a cushion. "What?"

"And who was meant to pack a few spares for me?" Ebony retorted, standing up and packing her spare suitcase from the pile of clean washing on the sofa beside Steve. "How do you do it, Steve?"

"Do what?"

"You just... Fit, right, same as your brother, wherever you are," she said, hissing in pain when she bent slightly, tweaking her spine.

"You calling me fit?" Steve asked her and she threw a bra at him. "What?"

"You cheeky fucker, no I'm not calling you fit."

"So I'm ugly?" She picked up the nearest pillow and thwacked him with it.

"Steve, shut up. Carry the suitcase and pretend to be normal."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:- Yep, another chapter! Well, this again ends on a bit of a cliff-hanger, but in the next chapter we should be getting back to Pete and what Ebony will do with the knowledge she's harbouring.**

Ebony sat on the bed in Steve's spare room, bouncing on it gently and hissing when her back twinged in pain at the motion. His house was three times the size of her flat and it had a garden, which Benjy was hurriedly scent marking by peeing up every plant and leaf in the green space, howling occasionally to display his pleasure at having a new place to wander around.

"You like it?" Steve asked her, stepping into the bedroom and leaning against the doorf rame and looking around the room.

"Yeah, it's like being inside a marshmallow – everything is white and fluffy," Ebony replied with a laugh, standing up slowly and taking care to lean on the bed post and heave herself up. "That bed will be the death of me, I swear, it's too fucking comfortable." Steve laughed and nodded slightly in agreement, watching her as she slowly unpacked her holdall into the empty chest of drawers.

"You know what, I kind of missed you," he said quietly, and she slammed a drawer hard and pretended not to hear as her cheeks burnt red. "Slam it a little harder, it might fight back."

"It wouldn't dare," she replied with a grin, tipping the holdall out so it dispensed her wash bag and odd bits and pieces onto the bed so she could sort them out. "I miss... Work," she hurriedly said, then found something interesting caught in the zip of her wash bag which distracted her. There was one of those silences where you know you ought to say something, but a part of you holds back, willing you to stay silent.

"I'll make some tea. Milk, three sugars?" Steve said conversationally.

"Yeah, but just the one sugar, I weaned myself off it," she laughed, hobbling after him and perching on one of the tall stools so she could stare at Benjy out of the window, barking his head off at nothing in particular.

"I thought you'd be on the sugar the rest of your life," Steve teased, stepping back to be away from the kettle as it boiled so it wouldn't drown him out. "Will Pete be alright?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"I hope so," she replied sheepishly, dodging giving him a straight answer as she looked at her hands. She was staring so intently at her fingers that when he gently grabbed her upper arms, she physically jumped. "Don't scare me like that!"

"Ebony, will he be alright?" Steve repeated, and she had nowhere to look but directly at him, and her face betrayed her. His expression crumpled and his grip on her arms increased as he fought back tears.

"Steve, let go of my arms, please," she said calmly, fighting tears herself and bringing a hand up to rub her eyes and try to deflect the water that threatened to fall. He let go of her and she caught his left hand in hers, pulling him back to her and hugging him tightly as they both cried, wordless tears of grief over someone whose life hung so desperately in the balance.

The phone rang and Ebony barely glanced at it, not caring who it was for a moment until she remembered why they were crying. "Steve, get the phone," she sniffed, prising herself free from him so he could go and answer the phone. He picked up the handset and tossed it to her, knowing that he would be almost incoherent in the state he was in. "Hello?" she said, her voice carefully masking her emotions.

"Ebbs? It's Nicola, you remember me? Why are you not at home?" Nicola asked with a laugh, and Ebony found the corners of her mouth twitch into a small smile.

"I remember, what do you want?" Ebony replied with a giggle, avoiding Nicola's last question about why she wasn't at home.

"Have you had sex yet?"

"NICOLA!" Ebony laughed, half-shouting in shock. Steve jumped and raised his eyebrows with a tiny smirk.

"Right, I forgot, too much angsty goodness, right? Anyway, I phoned to tell you that the secondary insult has begun to recede, so he's beginning to get better," she said, switching automatically into hospital speak.

"That's great, thanks for phoning," Ebony said, hanging up before her voice shattered completely. Steve stared at her. "His brain has stopped swelling; in fact, the fluid is beginning to recede, so he is getting better," she said, and was almost flattened by the hug Steve landed on her, leaping across the kitchen athletically.

"Shit, are you okay?" Steve asked her and she laughed, reaching behind herself to pull her shirt out from where it had caught in the drawer handle.

"Let the dog in, he'll freeze to death," she said, wanting to break the physical contact between them. Steve nodded and opened the door, the fat dog wiggling past him and flopping down on the sheepskin in the middle of the hallway. "He's just like you – fat and lazy," she teased, and Steve advanced on her. She played along, backing up against the cabinet that housed the fridge and acting terrified, a coy smile on her face. He pushed her very gently against the cabinet and smirked.

"Take that back," he growled, and she shrugged.

"Or what?" she replied and giggled. He paused.

"I'll put more sugar in your tea," he threatened and she laughed loudly, pushing past him to go back to her stool and sip her tea, looking genial.

"You need to come up with some better threats, Steve," she said with a snigger, shaking her head as she laughed. "You've really gotten soft in your old age."

"I hate to burst your 'Lets-insult-Steve' bubble, but I am only three months older than you," he replied, handing her a box full of biscuits which she raided and began dunking enthusiastically into her tea.

"Three months is a long time, you know," she replied, crunching up the Rich Tea in her mouth and just about managing not to spray everything in sight. "We should go back and visit Pete later, when the ward is open to visitors," she concluded, stuffing a cookie in her mouth whole before she made a total fool of herself.

"Ebony, one bite at a time, please," Steve laughed, slapping her on the leg with a tea towel as he finished his tea and washed the mug up in the sink.

"I was preventing myself from saying anything stupid," she told him and sighed.

"It would take more than a cookie to stop _you _from saying anything stupid, Dove," he replied, ignoring the surprised and shocked look on her face. "Where in the fuck did you get that nickname?"

"You gave it to me after my Mum cooked the pigeon pie and I asked her if a dove was the same thing as a pigeon," she said quietly, and he roared with laughter, the earlier tears forgotten. "I'm so pleased my daft ways still entertain you."

"You'll never stop entertaining me, you do realise that, right?" he asked and she smiled.

"I know; I kinda hoped you'd say that. I miss you too, you know?" He stepped forward and she slipped off the stool, pushing her hand against his chest. "No, stop it. Let me get this out before I totally lose my nerve," she scolded, and he took a step backwards with his hands up in defeat. "I hate you. You left when you should have fucking stayed, and you know it. Instead, you found yourself a nice pretty yank fucking bitch of a wife and dumped me by the roadside, and I had to put up with being on my own suddenly. And yet I still don't hate you, and you know what else?" she asked and he shook his head, feeling guilty at the way she was ranting.

"I still want to leap into bed with you, and-" she was rudely cut off by Steve pinning her against the island and kissing her, his hands on her waist to support her back. "And I know that I shouldn't," she finished, pulling away for a minute. He looked shocked.

"Have you fucking finished yet?" he asked her and she considered for a moment.

"No. No, I haven't, because I want to add that you ruined my life," she added angrily, then kissed him back hard enough to push him against the far cabinet, glad that their weight wouldn't be pressing her injured back against the cabinets.

"I'm glad you felt you could share," Steve laughed and she slapped his arm as her hands went to his short hair, neatly avoiding the reddened scar tissue at the side of his neck which would be still sore.

"What the _hell _is going on here?"


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger on the end of the last chapter; this one has a more closed ending. Dedicated to Little Miss Bovver, for always supporting me and being such a wonderful friend and reviewer.**

"Shannon?" Steve asked, leaping away from Ebony so fast she had to catch herself to prevent falling over. "What are, what-"

"To collect the last of my belongings. It's funny, I came in here with a view to patching things up, trying again, but now I see that you went back to that whore, I don't think you're worth it," the American woman hissed. Ebony stepped forwards and gave her the hardest punch she could manage with her left, and uninjured, hand, sending Shannon flying backwards into the fridge with a grunt. Ben screamed his head off as the two women stared at each other.

Shannon retaliated, jumping forwards to try and grab at Ebony, but the red-head was faster, stepping back in time. Shannon knew there was no point in fighting Ebony; she was a far superior fighter and could predict what Shannon would do before she did it, but it wouldn't stop her trying. She lunged again and Ebony grabbed the work surface before knocking the legs out from under her opponent, wincing in pain at the twinge in her back.

"I am _not _a whore, and you just got the total wrong idea," she said as Shannon struggled to her feet, grasping her cheek. "And you cannot hit me, I could be paralysed if you do." Steve looked the other way, trying not to laugh at the defiant look on both their faces as he comforted his son.

"Don't you touch him," Shannon warned, her eyes looking a little to wide as she frantically reached towards the buggy, a manic expression on her face. Steve jumped back and she snatched the buggy, pushing it into the hallway and dragging the screaming toddler out of his pushchair and stomping up the stairs. They heard her rummaging through the drawers upstairs, exchanging looks of concern for a few minutes before she appeared at the bottom of the stair case and glared at them. She sat Ben back down into his buggy and strode towards the kitchen, pausing at the door.

"I hope you're happy, you... You... You home wrecker," she hissed at Ebony, who bit her lip to prevent from laughing. "And you will never see your son again as long as she's in your life." With that parting shot, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the house, slamming the front door theatrically behind her.

"Holy shit, you married a lunatic," Ebony laughed, still a little shocked at the onslaught that Shannon had brought with her.

"She was alright before," Steve replied and then laughed himself. "Where were we?" he asked, shaking his head at Ebony who was trying to double up laughing and failing. "It's not that funny."

"Yeah it is. Did you see her? She tried to wrestle me! I'm stood here with my arm in a goddamn cast and my back strapped up to prevent it snapping or something, and she was going to rugby tackle me?" Ebony stood up and wiped her eyes, still giggling. "She's a nutjob, but that has made my fucking day." Steve handed her a tissue, which she accepted and wiped her eyes, trying to regain control over her laughter and her composure.

"I can't believe she came back," Steve said, still a little shell-shocked from the twist of events. "I thought she was gone for good."

"Did you want her to come back?" Ebony asked, fearing the answer to the question – whether it was yes or no. Steve considered that for a second, watching as her face fell by the moment before stepping over to her and kissing her again.

"I'd rather she never came back," he said quietly, and she smiled.

"Good, better get the locks changed then, hadn't you?" she said and he laughed quietly and nodded. "So much for purely platonic."

"You and me could _never _be purely platonic, and you know it," Steve said quietly, picking up his teacup and sipping it. Ebony had been about to say something, but the borrowed mobile phone began to ring in her pocket.

"Yeah, I know, Nicola-"

"It's not about that," Dave told her, and she frowned briefly.

"Well then, what _is _it about?" she asked, trying not to let her imagination get away from her.

"It's Hatcher; someone saw him at the hospital earlier," Dave told her, and she went white, unaware of the worried expression on Steve's face. "He was snooping around the A&E."

"Is Nic-"

"Nicola called security when she saw him. Apparently she threatened him with a scalpel, but this is third hand knowledge right here. Now what do we fuckin' do?" Ebony laughed at his tone, scratching her eyebrow in a practised nervous tick.

"We hang tight. I'm going with Steve-"

"What's going on with you two?"

"Dave, I swear to God, if you don't let me finish a sentence I'mma stick this phone up your arse," she warned, sticking a choice finger up at Steve as he snorted into his tea in laughter.

"Sorry Ebbs," Dave replied, sounding sheepish.

"It's okay. We're gonna go and see Matt and Pete later, you guys coming?" she asked, noticing the pause after she finished speaking for Dave to check she was finished.

"Yeah, what time is visiting up there?"

"Six until eight, don't be fucking late alright?" she snapped, knowing that the GSE had the same level of organisation as a small child.

"No boss, we'll be there. Don't have too much sex or _you _might be late," was his final sentence before he hung up, leaving Ebony laughing and shaking her head.

"Men. The only think about one thing, even if it isn't happening to them."

*~*~*~*

Ebony was reminded again about how much she hated intensive care wards as they stepped off the lift into the mild, temperate atmosphere of the ward. She glanced at Steve who winked at her as they headed slowly down the ward towards where Matt was reading a magazine at the end of a bed. Pete didn't look any different to when they had last seen him, but Matt looked like he'd been to hell and back since then.

"Hey," Ebony said softly, hugging Matt when he stood up. He smiled at her and shook Steve's hand before offering Ebony the seat he had just vacated, which she took gratefully. "How's... Life?" she asked lamely. They'd spoken earlier in the day, seen each other, but Matt looked older and more tired than he had then.

"Would have been better if his heart monitor hadn't had a blip. You should have seen it, people running from everywhere, checking everything out. They thought his heart had stopped, but the monitor was faulty," he explained, aware that neither of them were really paying attention. Ebony was staring intently at Pete's face, as though staring would make him uncomfortable and thus wake him up from the intense sleep he was in. Steve stood behind the chair she was parked in, his hands naturally on her shoulders as he stared at his brother. "So you two are okay again?" Matt asked, pulling up a second chair and slumping into it.

"Well, until the next dark-haired Yank comes along," Ebony quipped, raising a laugh from the other two. "You aren't going to stay here indefinitely, are you?"

"I'm going home later. Well, back to your apartment, anyway. I've got a hot date with this nurse, you might know here," he said cryptically, catching the quick wink Ebony shot him.

"You know I won't be there, right? I mean, Tommy Hatcher and his little fucking thugs will go looking for me, and I can't defend myself in this state. Maybe next week," she said lightly, shifting in her seat a little to change the pressure point in her back. Matt smiled.

"You don't change, do you," he stated and she shook her head.

"I haven't in 32 years, what would make me change over night?" she replied, glancing up as a nurse came to take Pete's vitals, noting them carefully in his chart and feeling a little uncomfortable at the stares she was receiving. She slammed the chart into the holder at the end of the bed and strode off to gossip with the other nurses at the station. Ebony whipped the chart into her hands and began flicking through it, nodding and making non-commital noises at suitable junctures. The chart told her nothing that she didn't already know, so she tossed it back into the holder and sat back in her chair.

"Oi Oi!" The whole ward seemed to pause and turn to stare at Dave and Swill who had just walked in from the lifts.

"This is a silent ward, Sir," one of the nurses scolded, and Dave slapped Swill who was turning beetroot red from the telling off.

"Sorry Miss," he whispered theatrically, raising a laugh from the three crowded around Pete Dunham's bed. "And how are we?" he asked, stepping up behind Ebony and waving at them all. He pointedly avoided looking at Pete, a stark contrast to Dave, who couldn't take his eyes away.

"Just pretend like he's asleep," Ebony said quietly, knowing only Dave would hear her as he perched on the arm of the chair she was seated in. "He basically is."

"I know. There's a sign outside the door that says about staying positive and chatting with 'em and shit, but I don't know what to say," he replied, and she put her hand on his arm with a smile.

"Just being here will help, okay?" She paused and continued looking out of the window, staring at the view over London. "Have you heard from Bovver?"

"Nah, he knows fucking better," Dave growled back, to which Steve nodded.

"If I ever get my hands on that little cunt, I'm going to rip him apart," Steve added quietly, and Ebony laughed.

"I tried to brain damage him with my cast, but it didn't work all that well," she said a little sadly, remembering her shattered cast with a grin.

"Probably because he has no brain to damage," Swill said, clenching his fist habitually and daring a glance at Pete. Everyone reacts to someone in a coma differently; some worry because of all the tubes and wires and so avoid looking at all, others are obsessed by watching their loved-one breath to check that they really are alive. "When will 'e wake up?"

"Who knows," Ebony said pessimistically, shrugging her shoulders and regretting it. "It's a waiting game, and we just have to play along."

"That's the truth," Matt agreed, and checked his watch. "I have to head off, I have a date, so I'll see you guys tomorrow, eh?"

"Yeah, sure, tomorrow, good luck – don't let her eat you alive," Ebony warned, then winked quickly. Matt made a mental note to ask her how she winked to deceptively quickly that only he could see, before shaking hands with everyone and heading for the lift, giving them a wave as he got in.

"Whose the date with?" Swill asked, launching himself into the seat that Matt had vacated.

"Nicola, who else?" Steve answered, ignoring the look that Ebony shot him for taking the words right out of her mouth. "He'll need luck."

"Ain't that the truth," Dave agreed, and they laughed before settling into a comfortable silence, each imbued in their own thoughts. When Steve spoke, they all jumped a little in surprise.

"We should go for a drink," he said simply, and they all nodded their agreement.

*~*~*~*

**A/N: Will Pete wake up? What do we think?**


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Well, the question will be answered in the chapter! Enjoy it, no warnings except for the usual language.

For the record, don't listen to Halo by Beyoncé when reading this.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The Abbey was quiet, the mood subdued, when Ebony, Steve, Dave and Swill walked in and took their usual booth on the far wall. Steve and Ebony sat on the bench, their sides tightly pressed against each other and their hands clasped together under the low table. Terry brought them over a round of drinks and then took a seat and considered a pertinent question.

"Is Pete okay?" Ebony turned and shot him a look, at which he shrank in on himself and appeared to shudder.

"He will be," she replied forcefully, squeezing Steve's hand tightly and realizing, with a small smirk, that he'd taken his wedding ring off.

"So, you two are back on then?" Terry asked, choosing a much safer conversation topic this time, and he got his answer from the glance that Steve and Ebony shared. "Well, it's about bloody time. That Shannon bird was a right bitch."

"Hey, divorce ain't final yet," Steve scolded, then smiled. "But, yeah, she was a bit of a psycho," he concluded, receiving a chorus of 'Amens' from the boys and a whoop from Ebony.

"You gotta admit, she was a bit of a goer," Dave agreed, and they all fell into silence again, some trying not to think and some trying to think about the colour of the bar mats.

"It's quiet in here tonight," Swill stated, looking around at the severe lack of punters.

"Yeah, has been ever since... Well, ever since the fight," Terry responded, choosing his words with remarkable tact. For someone who'd spent so long being a thug, he was in fact very intelligent and had a good word for anyone – it was one of the reasons that Steve picked him for his right hand man.

"You tidied up well, for a bloke," Ebony teased, and Terry threw a peanut at her from the packet he was working through.

"No throwing peanuts at the injured bird," Steve called, and got hit in the face by another peanut expertly thrown.

"Don't start, you dappy arse," Terry told him, following up the insult with a second peanut which struck the blonde in the mid-chest. Steve got up to throw the peanut back and missed fairly epically, his peanut landing sadly on the floor the other side of the table.

"You throw like a girl," Ebony teased, eyeing up her orange juice which had been forced upon her instead of her usual pint. As she had said at the time; she could get just as wasted on a couple of codeine tablets as a good session with the boys.

"Yeah, well you... You..." Steve shrugged. "I got nothing," he said, met with laughter and teasing from the boys, but Ebony leant over and kissed his temple all the same.

"Shit, I'll be back in a minute," she said, getting up and answering her phone.

"Ebony, get back to the hospital!" Ebony frowned at the panic and the tears in Nicola's voice.

"Nic... What's..."

"Ebony, he's... He's gone." Ebony dropped the phone and crumpled into a heap on the floor, sobbing loudly in the middle of the pub. No one moved to help her for a few moments, just staring at her as she cried, growling angrily at the cast on her left hand as it rubbed uncomfortably on her face as she tried to wipe away tears. Steve came to her and knelt beside her, looking concerned as he tipped her face up to meet his eyes. She shook her head and fell against his chest, hearing his tears as his body started to shake around her.

"I have to get to the hospital," he said quietly, and got up, rubbing his face before helping her to her feet. One look at the boys sitting in the booth told them everything, and they sprang up and followed Ebony and Steve to the nearest taxi rank.

*~*~*~*

"... Death was pronounced at just after 8pm," the doctor concluded, and Ebony felt the world shatter around her. He right hand was in Steve's, and a while ago she'd lost all feeling in her fingers where he was gripping her hand so tightly, and her left hand, though plastered, was being gently held by Dave. She'd given up trying to hide the tears that streamed down her face, not caring about what anyone else thought of her, and the only time she looked up from her lap was when Nicola walked in.

At that point the two women had fallen into each other, hugging each other tightly, Nicola's silk dress harshly red compared with Ebony's blue shirt, her white cast and the black make-up down her face. Ebony held onto Nicola as the smaller woman sobbed, burying her head against Ebony's chest and holding onto her like she was a rock in a river, keeping Nicola from the waterfall beyond. They broke apart, and Ebony gave her best supportive smile, the first for a few hours. Nicola tried to smile back but wound up crying harder, at which point Ebony handed her hysterical friend over to Matt, whose body and voice told her that he was still in denial. She'd seen grief before; working in A&E, people died all the time, and grief was like an insect; it always changed and evolved the same way.

She went back to Steve, who was attempting to console his mother, the two remaining Dunham's holding each other tightly as they cried. Ebony turned away from them and looked at Dave, staring at his hands so intently, as though convinced that Pete would walk into the room in a minute. She struggled to her knees in front of him and clasped his hands in hers, drawing his attention, before pulling him into a hug. She broke again, tears falling easily down her face and any pain in her back completely forgotten as she clung to him, sobbing, and they shook in combined grief. Neither of them spoke, knowing that there was nothing either could say to fix this, nothing to be said or done, and when they pulled apart a few minutes later, they were both crushed by Swill diving onto them both and yanking them into a group hug. Ebony barked a laugh at the sudden action, so unlike Swill, but the laugh was soon dissolved by tears.

"I... I jus' 'erd." The room fell silent and still, and Ebony pulled away from Dave and Swill, getting unsteadily to her feet to face Bovver, who was standing in the doorway and looking thoroughly miserable. She walked over to him, unaware of the eyes watching her as she moved, and she stopped a few feet short and just looked at him.

"I hate you," she whispered vehemently, and he looked away, tears falling down his face as he turned to leave. She grabbed his arm and hugged him tightly, letting him cry on her shoulder as she tried to comfort him. She pulled him away from her and looked him straight in the eye. "I hate you, but I also forgive you," she said quietly, stepped away from him to go and sit with Steve. Bovver stepped into the room and took a seat beside Dave, who slapped him on the back with a small smile and his usual greeting.

Ebony leant back in the seat and growled a little as her phone vibrated against her leg. She pulled it out and read the screen, which told her she had a voice-mail. She dialled and listened to the message, letting it run onto the next message stored.

"Ebony, why the fuck don'tcha ever answer your fucking phone? Matt's a goddamn journalist, get the fuck to the Abbey – NOW!" The phone went dead, and Ebony suddenly laughed, a noise very jarring in the subdued room. Steve turned to look at her with a questioning look on his face, and she began crying as she was laughing.

"Pete Dunham, the only man who not even death could stop him having a fucking go," she stuttered, and grabbed her stomach as she laughed, tears still falling down her cheeks as she laughed. Steve looked around the room then he, too, laughed quietly.

"Pete Dunham, the only man who could drink his weight in beer and still be sober the next day," he chimed in, joining in the bizarre game and laughing through his tears.

"Pete Dunham, the only man who I thought was a pretty fucking fit 14-year old," Nicola added, a smile on her face though tears of sadness still fell down her face.

"Pete Dunham, the only man who could look at a bird and say which football team she supported," Dave quipped, and the others laughed in agreement.

"Pete Dunham, the only man who thought Malteasers and Marmite were a suitable breakfast material," Pete's Mum, Debbie, added onto the game.

"Pete Dunham, the only man to sleep with Terry's bird and survive," Swill chortled, and the others laughed at the memory.

"Pete Dunham, the only man to send a Yank into a footie match without back-up," Matt said, showing a small cut on his wrist where he'd hurt himself during the match.

"Pete Dunham, the only man who'd have grown men crying and laughing over the fact he's popped off," Bovver stated. "And my best friend."


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Wow, long time in coming, right? Sorry about that, writers block + university work + family members being sick = NO UPDATES. But hey, here's one! Only 2 chapters left now!**

Ebony stretched, obeying her physiotherapist so she could get out as soon as possible. The cast had been replaced with a lightweight removable splint, and she was hoping that the corset could come off in time for the funeral. The physiotherapist looked at her as she sat down, her eyes red-rimmed and her skin dull, a contrast to her unwashed hair. "Well, as far as I'm concerned, I'm happy for the corset to come off. Are you sure you're okay?"

"One of my best friends died two days ago, no, I'm not fucking okay," she growled in response, and the physiotherapist recoiled slightly. "Look, can I go?" The physiotherapist shrugged and Ebony grabbed her bag and headed for the main entrance, feeling slightly chilly now that the corset was gone. She looked impatiently up and down the road, rubbing her hands together and stamping her feet to warm herself up.

"All better?" The hackles on the back of her neck stood to attention, and she turned to look at Tommy Hatcher, leaning on a pillar a few feet away, rolling a cigarette between his fingers.

"Better than I was," she replied curtly, covering her fear with a show of bravado. "A little far from home, aren't we?" Tommy laughed and stepped closer to her, noticing the way she didn't recoil from him.

"Speak for yourself. Still living with the Yank?" he growled, and she shrugged, watching him with her whole body tensed up.

"No, actually; had enough of him, went back to Steve," she told him plainly, then turned the conversation. "I heard you were caught sneaking around A&E a couple of days ago. You really are getting brave." He laughed and she narrowed her eyes, wanting to make sure she came over as angry rather than scared.

"Yeah, I was there. I thought I'd drop in and see that little bitch who was oh-so much fun to punch that night. You remember that, right?" She smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

"It was a while ago, but I guess I remember. You're a murderer, Tommy, and I'm going to make sure you fry for what you did," she snarled, and he moved so quickly she hardly had time to drop her bag before he grabbed the front of her jacket and put his face close to hers.

"You don't have the guts, you fucking little-"

"Put the doctor down and step away from the cigarette. I have a big-arse can of Mace and I am not afraid to use it." Ebony fought the laugh that bubbled up her chest at Nicola's threat, maintaining eye-contact with Tommy as he put her down and turned to look at Nicola. "I also have a security alarm and a pair of nail clippers."

"Oh, mighty brave now your little friend is back on her feet. Maybe-" He was stopped by Nicola spraying him in the face with her can of Mace, and the huge man flew backwards grabbing his eyes and screaming.

"Nic! LEG IT!" Ebony yelped, grabbing Nicola by the arm and half-running, half-hobbling along the road towards the tube station. They stopped inside the station and looked at one another for a moment before hugging quickly. "Mental note to self. I will not spray big fucking arseholes with Mace while friend is standing nearby!"

"I thought I was very brave!"

"Yeah, brave, right," Ebony replied, pulling her phone out of her pocket and phoning Steve and telling him she'd make her own way back. He sounded tired, and she knew why. "I need a drink," she said quietly, and Nicola gave her a slightly surprised look.

"Is... Is everything okay?" Ebony shrugged, biting her lip and looking everywhere but her friend's demanding face. "Ebbs?" Ebony walked away, rubbing her eyes on the back of her hand and determined to hold it together until she reached the coffee shop. She ordered a hot chocolate for herself and an espresso for Nicola before sitting down, taking a sip of her drink and exploding. She finally let herself cry, something that she hadn't done since the hospital two days ago, telling herself that she had to be strong for Steve, hold it together for whoever needed her at that moment.

Nicola just sat and watched her, putting a hand on her friend's wrist and letting her get on with it. Ebony wasn't making a whole lot of sense, but Nicola did her best to follow the story as her friend cried and tried to stop repeatedly. "So...?"

"So what? I have to go bury someone six years younger than me and know that I have to deal with the fucking aftermath, and I just... Nic, for the first time in my life, I'm fucking _bricking _it," Ebony confided, wiping her face on her sleeve. "Tommy Hatcher is a murderer, and I have to stand by and let him get away with it!"

"Go to the cops, Ebs, you have to. He killed Pete, and his thugs nearly killed you, too," Nicola said enthusiastically, her face falling as she saw Ebony shaking her head.

"What do I say, hm? Oh, yeah, you know that guy who was battered to death? Yeah, I'm here to tell you the whole story," she laughed bitterly. "No. The risk is that the other boys will wind up in as much shit as Hatcher."

"You might not have a choice; you want him to walk free?"

"I want to see you spray him with Mace again, let me tell you that much," Ebony laughed, and Nicola went scarlet. "That was fucking priceless."

"It was only what he deserved," Nicola replied, and Ebony rolled her eyes but continued laughing.

"Look, I need to get this funeral out the way; let me decide tomorrow."

*~*~*~*~*

As Ebony dressed, she watched the rain fall miserably down the window, and found herself chortling at the dramatic weather. She smoothed down her black dress before turning and pulling on a West Ham shirt over the top and looking at herself in the mirror with a laugh. _The only time I wear make-up for Pete Dunham and he doesn't even get to see it – fucking typical!_ She walked out of the spare bedroom and headed for Steve's room, a little surprised to find him sitting on the bed with Benji clamped to his side. He was staring out the window, the West Ham shirt looking decidedly odd under his suit jacket that was so expensive and clearly tailored, and the dog seemed to understand that Steve needed something to hold onto and was sitting calmly and watching the rain.

"C'mon, we'd better go," Ebony said quietly, and Steve jumped enough to make the bed wobble. "You look like shit."

"Thanks, I wish I could say the same," he replied with a tired smile, and she crossed the room and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, closing his eyes and breathing in her perfume. "Did you spray the Chanel, or splash around in a bathtub?"

"Shove off," she told him and broke the hug, giving him a smile before turning and walking down the stairs. She didn't care what anyone said; the black dress and West Ham shirt were teamed up with her trainers and an old handbag she'd had in the back of a wardrobe for ten years. As she reached the front door the bell rang, so she bounced over to it and opened it, regretting it instantly as Nicola launched herself upon her friend. "Hey, Matt," Ebony said to the American standing behind her grieving friend, and he smiled weakly at her while she prised Nicola off her neck. "Get a fucking grip before you upset Steve."

"I'm okay," Nicola replied, dabbing her eyes with a filthy tissue. "You want to take our cab down the house?"

"Yeah, lemme go get-"

"S'ok, I'm here," Steve answered, finding an umbrella and then abandoning it as he walked towards them, pulling his keys out of his pocket and chivvying them out of the front door so he could lock it. He was wearing a brave face, but Ebony knew how he'd be in the church, watching his brother getting buried, singing ridiculous hymns that seemed a prerequisite for funerals. She made sure to sit close to him in the cab, hand in his but eyes on the outside world.

Debbie was making tea for the remaining GSE boys when Steve, Ebony, Nicola and Matt arrived, and she finally broke down when Steve walked in. Her last son, the final remaining Dunham man, walked to his mother and lead her into the kitchen to comfort her while they were alone. Ebony kept her cool until she saw her mum, at whom she threw herself and hugged tightly.

"Ebby baby, it'll be okay," Meg cooed, stroking her daughter's back comfortingly and hugging her tightly. "You have to go to the police," she whispered, and Ebony nodded; however much she didn't want to, she needed to see some punishment for Tommy Hatcher. Max pulled Meg away from his daughter, sheltering Meg from the world with his arm around her shoulders, and Ebony turned and saw Dave, clutching a cup of tea in one hand and his fiancé's hand in the other. Red gave Ebony a smile, receiving a quick wink in reply before she stood up.

"You look like hell," Red told Ebony, who shrugged a little.

"At least my bloke reaches higher than my nipples," she quipped back, and they smiled at each other before hugging, Dave looking at Swill for support and receiving nothing but laughter back. "It's good to see you."

"An' you. It really has been too long," Red replied as they pulled apart, and Ebony laughed.

"Only a funeral can bring a family together, eh?" They both laughed quietly, about to continue their conversation when the doorbell rang. Max answered and lead the undertaker through the house, where he stood before the crowd and took his hat off his head.

"The limo is waiting for you all outside; close family in the first, friends in the second," he said quietly, but his voice carried beautifully through the quiet room. The gathered people got up and walked towards the cars, Steve holding his mum's hand all the way to the first limo, before he held the door for her and turned to Ebony.

"You count as close family," he said to her, and her eyes filled with tears again as he helped her into the car. Debbie threw her arms around Ebony, hugging her crushingly tightly and then pulling back.

"You never came for Christmas dinner," she rasped through her tears, and the two women just stared at each other, both crying and facing their own little battles with their grief.

"I know. You never called me back about the time!"


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N – Two chapters this close together?! Blimey! Anyway, enjoy, I hope to have the last chapter up in the next few days. And yes, this ends on a cliffhanger, but so does the whole story... Sequel?**

"That was horrifying," Nicola said, holding the front door for Ebony patiently. Ebony risked a smile, her make-up smeared down her face in dirty tear-tracks from both sad and happy tears. She'd never laughed as much at a funeral, but then, what else would Pete have wanted?

Steve had wanted to go home with his Mum for the evening, so had handed Ebony his set of house keys and, with Nicola's help, she'd got home, collapsing on the huge sofa with a sigh, kicking her shoes off onto the shagpile carpet to lay on her side on the sofa, hugging one of the enormous cushions tightly.

"Want a cuppa?" Nicola called from the kitchen, opening cupboards to examine what Steve had in the cupboards.

"Yeah, please," Ebony replied over her shoulder, squeezing the cushion tighter momentarily. She had told her parent's that she was fine, that she'd call them later, but now, in the clinical living room of Steve's posh house, she wished her mum was there. With difficulty and much swearing, she got back up and hobbled into the kitchen, watching Nicola with amusement. "Shouldn't 'ave run away from Hatcher yesterday, bloody crippled now."

"Eh, how can we tell the difference?" Nicola asked, winced as Ebony punched the top of her arm. She poured the hot water into the two mugs and finished the teas before putting one on the work-surface beside Ebony, a small smile on her face which disappeared when she turned to face her friend. "Ebs, are you gonna quit this now?"

"No," Ebony said without hesitation, turning the cup around. Nicola bringing her cup down hard on the surface made her jump.

"Ebony, look at yourself! You could have been crippled forever, and..." Nicola paused, rallying her courage, then stated, "And Pete was murdered over what? A rep? A fucking _game_?"

"You know what? I saw this coming, you and your bloody lectures." Ebony's anger rose to equal Nicola's, and she stepped forwards. "You're just butthurt you didn't get to shag him, and that's the truth." The cup in Nicola's hand fell and smashed, her face hurt and her eyes leaking furiously.

"Is that really what you think? Because if it is, Ebony, I don't want to be around you."

"Well then fuck off." Nicola just stared at Ebony, who was perfectly cool and calm, hiding well the anger flowing through her. "Go on then." Nicola turned, grabbed her bag and left. Ebony took a sip of the tea and, as a parting shot, yelled, "And learn to make a decent cup of tea!" The front door slammed and Ebony stared at it down the corridor, face still set for a few moments as she expected Nicola to come bounding back to have the last word. "C'mon..." Ebony whispered, taking a sip of the tea as Benji came for a head-scratch.

The door opened and Ebony smiled as Nicola threw her bag to the floor and started shouting, strings of words that were basically indecipherable to anyone. Ebony stepped forwards as Nicola ranted until they were an arms length apart, when she put her hands on Nicola's shoulders and said, "Shut up, you dappy tart."

"Did you mean all that stuff?"

"Did you?" Nicola looked away, then looked back defiantly.

"About the Firm? Yeah, I did. But everything else... Nah, you're alright." Ebony laughed, hugging her friend gently then shaking her head.

"Why can't we ever argue like a normal married-" The door bell rang obnoxiously, and they exchanged glances. "Who's that?" Ebony mouthed, indicating the door. Nicola shrugged then turned and picked up a sizeable lamp, holding it above her head and hiding behind the door. They seemed in mutual agreement that if it was Tommy Hatcher, then they needed to strike first. Ebony swallowed hard and, on Nicola's signal, pulled the door, somewhat surprised by the well dressed men on the other side of the door.

"Ebony King?" one asked, and Ebony glanced at his waistband, noticing the badge.

"Yeah," she said, knowing what was coming.

"You're under arrest for affray and for the murder of Thomas John Hatcher. You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say can be used in evidence against you if you do not mention, when questioned, something you later rely upon in court. Do you understand?" Ebony's mouth opened and closed as she attempted to form some kind of halfway decent answer. Tommy Hatcher? Murdered?

"I don't think we need to cuff her, she probably won't put up much of a fight," the second officer said with a smirk, and Ebony wished her arm wasn't in plaster and her back wasn't broken. She'd show him. But, at that moment, she was still far too shocked to do anything but follow them gamely to their waiting patrol car, Nicola standing in the doorway, still holding the lamp, with a similar look of shock on her face.

*~*~*~*~*

Ebony sat in the interview room, feeling completely and utterly blank as she waited to be questioned. As they'd lead her through, she'd caught sight of Dave looking equally confused and shell-shocked, and with a brief smile she'd been dragged away. Walking past booking she was certain she saw Bovver, but couldn't be one hundred percent sure, it had happened too quick.

She wished Steve was there.

As soon as the thought ran through her head she hated it. She didn't depend on anyone, never had done and never would do. Or, that's what she told herself. But right then, she'd have given her right arm to have Steve there to save her. White knight on a big horse to ride in and save her.

"Miss King, can I get you something to drink before we start?" The older officer who had arrested her, DI Shaw, asked her with kind eyes, disturbing her day-dream. She shook her head, slightly sullenly, then adjusted her seating position gingerly so she was facing him and his partner, DI Adams, across the table. Shaw started the tape player, introducing who was present along with the grounds for arrest, then settled back on his chair to observe her. "So, how are you?" She laughed and shook her head.

"Cut the shit. Please, tell me, exactly _how _I could kill Hatcher in this state? Two broken vertebrae, you know, broken wrist, beaten the holy fucking shit out of," she asked, sarcasm nearly dripping in her voice.

"You definitely had motive, and I've seen what women can do when they're angry enough," Shaw replied, seemingly unphased by the way she asked the question.

"Not the point. I physically could not have overpowered Hatcher when I was well, let alone now."

"Oh, don't worry, we think you had help." Ebony thought of Steve and her stomach clenched, intensifying the sick-feeling already filling her up. Her face must have given her away, because Adams jumped on the emotion instantly. "Thinking of someone specific?" Ebony's face changed and she smiled slightly maniacally at him.

"No. But, I'd like to know what evidence you have of me actually killing Hatcher?" It was the officer's turn to look at one another slightly guiltily, and Ebony smirked. "So you're holding me on sod all evidence, just because I have motive to kill the fucker? So did half of London. You gonna arrest all them, too?"

"We still have you for affray."

"Decent lawyer, add in my own injuries, put it down to self-defence. You ain't got a case, and you know it. So, why're you keeping me here when you know you don't have a case?" She was infuriatingly smug, and only became more so when she saw how it was affecting Adams. "It must be fuckin' annoying when just some larger-lout hooligan knows more about the law than you do," she said, her voice low and cruel. He stood up, hands thumping down on the table, and she sat back in her chair, smiling sweetly at him.

"Sit down, Adams," Shaw stated, and the younger man obeyed reluctantly, staring at Ebony as though if he stared at her long enough she'd break into a little weeping woman and confess. He really had no clue who he was messing with, and that fact amused Ebony no end. "Miss King, you seem to know your law very well."

"If you're going to engage in illegal activity, the least you can do is understand the laws you're breaking," she said disinterestedly, picking at her nails. "Which also brings me around to my lack of a lawyer, so either you're not going to charge me or you brought me in for something else." They glanced at one another and Ebony had to fight down a laugh, her terror and shock of earlier forgotten – she was nearly having fun.

At that moment, a third officer entered and slipped a piece of paper to Shaw before leaving, giving Ebony a funny sideways look as he left. She was far more interested in what was written on the piece of paper and the intense frown it put on Shaw's face. "Well?" she asked, not holding the smile back. Shaw leant over and whispered to Adams, who's face turned purple as he heard the news.

"You're free to go, Miss King," Shaw told her with a sigh, turning the tape recorder off as he stood. She frowned then struggled to her feet, shaking his hand firmly when it was offered and noticing that Adams hadn't moved an inch. She rolled her eyes and headed for the door, still completely and totally confused by what had gone on, and was standing at the desk to collect her belongings when Dave appeared, looking equally puzzled. She found the situation very ironic; there she was, still dressed for the funeral, her make-up smeared down her face, and Dave in his full pilots uniform, looking smart as you like aside from the loose tie and mucky face.

"Alright?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Yeah, but... They just let me go, Ike and Swill, too," he said, signing a piece of paper then shoving his wallet in his pocket.

"Wait, so you, me, Ike, Swill and-" She stopped, her heart thumping. "Fuck."

"Ebony?"

"Bovver. He was in 'ere when I arrived, have you seen 'im?" Dave cottoned on to what she was talking about and felt a sinking feeling flooding through him.

"D'you think he'd do it? Kill Hatcher?" Ebony looked at Dave and shrugged. In all honesty, she knew that any one of them were capable of doing it – she just hoped Bovver hadn't.

"I hope not," she settled on, glad that Dave caught the connotations of her answer. "Fancy sharing a taxi?" Dave agreed and they went to leave the police station, to find themselves in a sudden crush of journalists pointing cameras and microphones in their faces.

"Did you know Tommy Hatcher was dead?"

"Did Mr Bovverington commit the crime?"

"How are you feeling about the events of today?"

"Do you think that Peter Dunham's death will start a gang war?"

"Please, just one comment! It's for the Sun!"

"Where are you going?"

Ebony was half dragged through the crowd by her arm, Dave determined to get away from the journalists before either one of them said or did something they regretted, and headed for a small back-alley. The journalists gave up the chase halfway there, thankfully, or else Ebony would have had a few choice words to share with them.

"Holy shit," she settled on as they started walking as briskly as she could manage down the alleyway.

"Yeah. Pete's a fuckin' celebrity, and he weren't here to see it!"

*~*~*~*~*

"And in local news, a local thug by the name of Alan Bovverington confessed to the murder of business man Thomas Hatcher today. The two men, it has been alleged, were involved in a street brawl sometime in the early hours of this morning, when the victim was found dead in the Thames, seemingly having jumped from one of the bridges. The Met Police have yet to issue a statement-" Ebony turned the television over quickly, her head going to her palms as soon as she'd dropped the remote.

"No fucking way," Steve said, staring at the television which was now displaying a cooking show. "Just no."

"I agree, but... Shit, who's gonna be a decent character witness? The bloke was a knobhead, of the first order," Ebony said, looking up at Steve.

"Well you'll 'ave to bite the bullet and do it," he replied, and she punched his leg. "Ouch, what was that for?"

"Volunteering me when I don' wanna be volunteered," she told him, then had new resolve filling her. "We're hiring him a decent lawyer, not one of them court appointed pricks," she stated, and Steve opened his mouth to disagree before thinking better of it.

"Yeah, right. I think I know someone good."


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Well, here it is! We've reached the end, dear friends. Huge amounts of love to everyone who's followed this for so long, but especially to littlemissbovver, who, though she probably doesn't know it, is the only reason this fic ever got finished. Love you hon! **

**Enough from me – onto the last chapter!**

*~*~*~*~*

"Stop pacing."

"I can't help it." Steve rolled his eyes, watching Ebony pace the same circuit around the small waiting room, hobbling slightly where her back was hurting her, but otherwise continuing her pointless pacing. "What if they come out and say he's being charged?"

"They wont," Steve replied, and Ebony glared at him, not understanding how he could patiently sit there and read a news paper while Bovver was, potentially, about to be charged with Hatcher's murder. Ebony had already been in and written her statement; that Bovver was with her all morning (true) and that he never left her sight (not quite true). She just _knew _that he didn't do it, in the same way a parent instinctively knows that their child is in danger.

Her money was on Hatcher killing himself rather than being arrested for murdering Pete. She had attempted to make this bet with Steve, who told her that it was macabre and she should get a hobby. She just glared at him and started pacing, and hadn't stopped since except when she'd paused to add sugar to her crappy cup of tea that Steve had gathered from the machine.

"Sit down, for Gods sake! You're makin' me tired just watching you," Steve said finally, much louder than he'd meant to, and she finally took a seat next to him with a loud, pointed sigh in his direction. "Look, wandering aimlessly back and forth ain't going to make the time go faster, and it's hurting your back. Just sit still."

"Whatever," she replied sullenly, not looking at him and instead reading the back of a magazine that was on the table beside her. She picked it up to continue reading, but had barely read one line before the door opened and the lawyer that Steve had hired appeared. Ebony jumped to her feet, winced at the ache in her back, then hobbled over to him. "Well? Can we go now?"

"You can. They have some very strong evidence against-"

"I don't care! He was at a goddamn funeral when Hatcher died, for fucks sake!"

"Yes, but there's only the word of his friends proving that, isn't there? Would you honestly have told the police if he _hadn't _been with you all day?" Ebony frowned and shook her head. He was making her look stupid, but she knew she had to play nicely, or else Bovver could go to jail for something he didn't do. "But, the police haven't got the post mortem results yet, and that could be just what young Alan needs."

"How so?" Ebony asked, still ever so slightly puzzled.

"If there's no evidence that Mr Hatcher was pushed off the bridge, then it looks more likely that he jumped rather than face charges, or your 'firm', or his own," the lawyer replied, smiling smugly. Ebony wasn't sure whether to be pleased or even more worried by this concept, but settled on a mixture of both. "In the mean time, there's little you can do. I'd advise going home, and I will call you in the morning with the verdict."

*~*~*~*~*

"I can't believe Hatcher would 'ave the guts to kill himself," Ebony said decisively, moving her seating position slightly in the front seat of the Range Rover for what seemed to be the millionth time. Steve stuck his head out of the window to see if he could find a cause for the long traffic jam, anything but listen to Ebony's seemingly-endless rambling.

"He was a braver bloke than you give him credit for," Steve replied, hoping it didn't spark yet another tirade of epic proportions. He hoped wrong.

"What's the supposed to mean? Just because he can go around beating the crap out of girls and... And... Drinking and stuff, doesn't make him any braver than anyone else. He was a stupid twat who deserved what he got but of course we can't have people murdering murderers now, can we? If Bov did do it he was performing a public service and we should be giving him a medal and a nice parade with a ticker tape banner and shit like that because really he's a hero because now no-one else will have to put up with Hatcher beating the shit out of them." Steve sat looking at her, a bewildered look on his face. "What?"

"You've been spending too much time with Nicola," he said, still trying fathom exactly what she had been babbling on about.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve could see the conversation unravelling into a giant domestic, and there was nothing worse than a domestic in an enclosed space.

"Well, just that you sounded kind of like her then," he said quietly, watching her closely in case she was about to explode. Mentally, Ebony counted to ten, then shrugged her shoulders as best she could.

"Eh, I guess I did," she said, holding her anger in and congratulating herself for not exploding at him. He was giving her a slightly strange look, and she frowned. "What?"

"You didn't explode."

"See? Growth," she said with a big smile, and he couldn't help but laugh.

*~*~*~*~*

When the phone started ringing at exactly 10:10am, Ebony nearly jumped out of her skin. She had been sitting watching it since 9am, her face mere inches from the receiver, and so when it rang, it had nearly deafened her, and she had almost missed the call in her nervous state by picking up the receiver and then dropping it. "Hello?" she finally managed, sitting back down on the sofa and feeling the weight of everyone's gaze on her.

Steve moved to sit next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders and trying to lean in and hear what was being said. She kept making small affirmative noises but wasn't really saying much, until she put the receiver down and looked around the room. Nicola was nearly in tears with the tension, Matt sat beside her holding her hand, with Dave, Ike and Swill watching from the opposite sofa. "Want the good news or the bad news?" Ebony asked, her face completely deadpan, and everyone's stomach's dropped a few inches.

"Bad news," Dave said after a short pause, and Ebony looked up at them.

"We're gonna be stuck with his ugly fucking mug for a _long _time yet," she stated, waiting for them all to cotton on, and enjoying their excitement when they did. "Coroner found definitive evidence that Hatcher jumped, he weren't pushed!" she added with excitement, standing up and then toppling back to the sofa as everyone dived in for a group hug.

"Let's go get the miserable bastard, then!" Steve shouted, receiving a loud cheer in response.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The Abbey was decked out in brightly coloured banners, with a huge, blue and pink gaudy number stretched across the back wall, proclaiming 'Happy Birthday Pete'. To anyone walking by, it would look like a very happy birthday party – there was different types of food, cakes, party hats, and a huge number of people both inside enjoying the food and alcohol, and outside basking in the June sunshine.

But inside, though the day was a day of celebrating the life that was, there was a vague undertone of sadness, that sometimes crept in around people's eyes, and dampened down their laughing. The other thing that would strike you as odd is the lack of presents; instead, there was an envelope, and inside were cards people had written to the birthday boy and people had included money inside these cards.

A tall woman stood up on the table beside this envelope, and addressed the crowd. She leant heavily on a walking stick, but otherwise seemed very happy, smiling down at her friends and family.

"I know this isn't a conventional birthday party; for one thing, we don't have a birthday boy," she said, her smile saddening slightly. "But we all wanted to remember Pete, in our own way, and that's why you're all here, and why you're all giving money. I was a bit cagey about where the money was going, because, until this morning, the whole thing wasn't finalised, but now it is. All the money we've collected over the last few months are paying for a trip Pete was so desperate to make."

"Thanks to all of you, we are sending his under-13's squad to Prague for the European Under-18's Cup, complete with new kits and we've bought a new cup. It'll be awarded to the Player of the Match, and it's called the Dunham Cup."


End file.
